


The Sum of Our Fears

by skdunning



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: Canon Related, Gen, Jaws of Hakkon DLC, Other, post-Inquisition
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-13
Updated: 2016-09-13
Packaged: 2018-08-14 20:07:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 28,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8027272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skdunning/pseuds/skdunning
Summary: Cleanup in the aftermath of Corypheus is slow. An inquiry into Aeonar has gone sideways. Cullen's report was urgent and dire. I wasn't even aware such a place existed...
 
Brief on the World choices critical to this story: (Origins events) warden is circle mage Amell, Fereldan Circle survives Uldred's takeover, Alistair is "hardened" Cauthrien died, Loghain executed, Alistair and Anora rule jointly. warden remains the mistress of Alistair. (Awakening) Nathaniel Howe is a warden, both Amaranthine and Vigil's Keep are saved. (DAII) The Champion isn't critical, save that Cullen respected him/her. (Inquisition) Morrigan drank the well-water, Leiliana is not the Divine, Cole is more spirit, Jaws of Hakkon for Lace Harding backstory, Other DLC has not been played by the author, other official stories have not been read by the author, so none of the other aspects of the canon timeline will exist in this story.





	The Sum of Our Fears

**Author's Note:**

> Author's note: This is the first piece of fanfic I've written. I think it should go without need to say the characters and settings belong to the Dragon Age Franchise and all that entails. 
> 
> While I tried to keep within canon, I did deviate. This is first person, past tense Inquisitor POV. Some mild language is used. Sexual situations are not graphic. Sexual violence is referred to as a past act. There are fight scenes with demons and abominations, but this violence is also not graphic. As with all stories, it is impossible to ward against all potential emotional triggers. Readers are far better equipped to make rational decisions about what they choose to read and why, without the need be "cautioned to death"

# The Sum of Our Fears

### Chapter One

Mist clung to the valley floor, concealing the murky waters of Lake Ithasay in shifting grays of ambient light. I didn't need the dull throb of the anchor to tell me the veil was thin. Fragments of memories reenacted about me in whispers and visions. The spirits here were active and haunting.

The tower of Aeonar loomed before me, dark and ominous. It was an impressive building, that it was still standing after all these ages. The Fade wept over the architecture, flashing images of when it was new. I shivered as an unnatural, foul-smelling breeze kicked up from over the moors.

It smelled of death.

My Forder halted at the edge of the tree line. "C'mon," I whispered, digging my heels into her sides to push her on. "We've been through worse."

She grunted in protest, her ears pinned to her head. It took some coaxing to get her moving again, but she twitched at every sound. Her rhythm relaxed when we neared the stables where the other Inquisition horses were corralled. I shared her relief. It was nice to find a trace of the familiar in the riot of shadows.

As I had been promised, Scout Harding met me at the stables. "Inquisitor, are you a welcome sight!"

"Harding, my favorite scout. Cullen's missive sounded dire. The situation here that bad?"

"Worse. The templars here, Inquisitor, every one of them was on half-rations for weeks before the call for aid went out. They are all in full-blown withdrawals. Most of them are in really bad shape. Commander Cullen hasn't slept since we got here." She tilted her head. "You did bring the lyrium with you?"

I nodded. "Yes, I promise. I'm only a half-day's ride ahead of the supplies"

She breathed. "Whew, that's a relief. We're making do with what little we brought with us, but the sooner we can get these guys back on a regimen, the better the chances we'll have of saving lives."

I looked at the tower and shook my head in attempt to be rid of the shackle to the fade that snaked through my thoughts. My mind felt both too fast and too slow, like it was caught between this world and the next. "If nothing else proves the Maker exists, this place certainly does. The fade is so compromised, I'm amazed there's anything left of it."

"We feel it too, Inquisitor." Harding said, sober and withdrawn. "I don't know if I prefer the quiet or the chaos. Both feel wrong."

"I shudder to think what would have happened if Corypheus knew this place existed."

"Or maybe he did, and even he gave this place a wide berth?" 

"A cheery thought." I looked at the integrity of the structure. Despite the unnatural forces pulling and twisting at it, it was remarkably well-preserved. "I don't suppose you've learned what started all this?"

"Sorry to disappoint. I'm good, I'm not that good. Seeker Corthwaite's doing his best, but his priority has been the health of the survivors, not gathering testimony."

"There's a seeker here? Cullen didn't mention."

"Ex-Seeker I suppose is the more accurate term. Silas Corthwaite has yet to reenlist. He's the one who sent word to Leliana. I got the impression that their relationship goes back before seekers and left-hands."

"Oh?"

She shrugged. "I can't explain it, just a feeling. There was history behind his eyes when he spoke of her."

"Lady Nightingale certainly has her secrets, yeah? Where would the seeker be?" I shot a quick look to the bevy of tents surrounding the stables. "I'm assuming over there somewhere?" 

"Uh--" She squinted in direction of the officers' pavilions before pointing. "The tent there, Commander Cullen was pressing the seeker for floor plans, discussing the prisoners kept within, and where best to set up those elvhen fade artifacts that strengthen the veil. Last I saw them, anyway. The commander, he's quiet most days, but I've never seen him so grim,"

I set a thin smile, bolstering my determination. "I guess I should announce my arrival then, if runners haven't already done so. Is there anything you can tell me about the place itself?"

"Aeonar? Not much." She shivered. "Built by ancient Tevenes I guess. Seeker Corthwaite said it was a magical research site, like Ostagar, when she was built. The belief is that mages were on Fade walk when the slaves rebelled, and the massacre was eerily silent. The event was so gruesome the Fade nearly disintegrated and the murderers fell victim to the vengeful spirits they had angered. This whole place has been wrong since then."

"And let me guess, the Chantry though, ooh, the veil is fragile here, let's build a prison."

Harding gave a humorless laugh. "That sums it up."

"Well, thanks again Harding. Drinks after this is settled? I want details on your professor friend."

Her freckles blended together as a crimson blush crept across her cheeks. "I'll give you details on my professor friend when you give me details on a certain ex-templar."

I laughed. "I yield. Still, drinks. There's a lot to get caught up on."

"You bet." She stopped me as I turned to leave, pulling a half burned document from her satchel. "Oh there is one other thing. I found this in a pile of ashes next to the Knight Lieutenant's campfire. I haven't had a chance to bring it up with Commander Cullen yet, but I'm not sure I like what it's implying."

I handled the document with extreme care. The weight was expensive, produced from Antivan papyrus or Orlesian linen. Crisp, seared edges crumbled at the slightest disturbance. Whole sections of words seemed intentionally smudged prior to their pyre, but more disturbing than that was the distinct ghost of the Fereldan royal seal crimped in the corner. 

Someone at the prison had received a royal communication and then tried to be rid of the evidence. But why? What did the crown ask of the prison? And was the order executed? And did it have anything to do with what happened?

I thanked Harding again and sought out my commander.

### Chapter Two

Cullen was hunched over paperwork at his field desk, his brow lined with concentration. His dark eyes showed strain and weariness, but his stoic features brightened a bit when we made eye contact. "Inquisitor," he said softly, his tone the only allowance he displayed of his affection. "It's good you've come so quickly."

He was not alone. An older man in aged seeker armor stood at Cullen's elbow, Corthwaite, I surmised. "I'm no more than a half day ahead of our supplies," I said. "Hopefully, the lyrium won't be too late. I know that time is critical. Seeker Corthwaite, I presume?"

He accepted my handshake with a grimace and a groan. "Silas, please. The title is still in contest. I haven't yet accepted Most Holy's offer to return to the fold. Cullen told me you circled at the Rose Tower?"

"Seems like a lifetime ago now, but yes." Silas was a tough read, much like Cullen. "Is that, I mean, I hope that isn't going to be an issue for us, working together." 

"Why, because you're a mage?" He shook his head. "I've no problem with magic. Not to sound arrogant but no spell of yours is too great for me to counter. Besides, you've got three of the best things going for you."

I caught his half smile. "Oh?"

"You saved Thedas, more than once if the gossip is true. You're not from the Gallows, so you're not going to be twitchy and brooding, which I like. And, both Leliana and Cullen have vouched for you. That's as good as gold in my book. It's nice to meet you."

I released the breath I was holding. "It's nice to meet you, too. Can I ask how did you come to find this place? Out of curiosity. It's my understanding that few people knew of its existence."

He nodded. "Before the Breach, before Seeker Lambert went off his pyre and made me reevaluate my commitment to the order, Aeonar was my jurisdiction. It's no surprise to me that the Knight Commander left specific instructions to seek me out, should something catastrophic happen."

"So you were sent for? Any ideas what that catastrophe was?" I asked. "A latent rift from the Corypheus crisis, maybe?"

The seeker waved a dismissive hand. "Nothing so clear cut. This prison, well, it's more fade here than it is Thedas. Something like a rift? Benign as far as these lads are concerned. When the Breach appeared, the Knight Commander followed protocols. The facility was on lock down and they waited out the storm. They should have had enough supplies, both food and lyrium, in their stores to handle a dozen such events."

"But Scout Harding said the brothers were on half rations."

"I know." Silas scowled, his brow pinched above his nose. "They, none of these boys, should be this bad. The only thing I can think of was somehow their storage locker was severely compromised but that would literally require an act of a wrathful deity to accomplish. It's a vault set in the bedrock. A natural spring keeps the place supplied with clean water. There's a thin vein of lyrium infused diamonds encasing the rock. Not even the darkspawn could tunnel through."

I looked to Cullen for confirmation, which he gave. "Based on everything Silas has shared, what we're standing in the middle of shouldn't be happening."

"Was no one coherent when you arrived Silas?"

"Not a one, your worship. Knight Commander Pandeshir died the day before I arrived. The other one is missing in action--"

"Two Knight Commanders?"

Silas nodded. "The demands of this place are pretty brutal, Inquisitor. All shifts, including command, are two by two."

I frowned at the unfamiliar reference. Cullen, caught my look and explained, "Two hours on and off, two men per. There's barracks here enough for four personnel for each post. It's standard procedure in high stress, magical anomaly situations."

"I see."

Silas continued. "Two of The Knight Captains were in full blown shakes and talking to demons, completely unable to separate the visions and the here and now. Knight Lieutenant Boremer was a recent transfer, his lyrium resistance was still pretty low, so what information I have I got from him, which admittedly isn't much. His duties kept him from the center of the mess."

"So no one here has the slightest clue as to how this all began?"

"I've said what I know," said a voice from behind. I turned to see a very sick man in templar silks staggering through the pavilion opening. "But I'm having difficulty remembering anything."

Cullen's voice was full of concern. "Lieutentant, what are you doing up? You should be reserving your strength."

The sick man dismissed the idea with a wave. "Andraste wasn't allowed respite when they tied her to the stake. Besides, I can't sleep among the dying. Are you the Herald of Andraste?"

That title still made me twitch. But I wasn't going to deny a dying man his belief. "Guilty as charged," I said with a smile. 

"Your worship, it's an honor to meet you. Word of your heroism on Our Lady's behalf." He wheezed and swaggered. "To know that She hasn't let the Maker abandon us, your worship, well we all felt humbled and our faith renewed."

I exchanged a glance with Cullen. There was unspoken caution in his eyes. I nodded in kind and helped the templar to a chair. Kneeling at his feet, I took his hands, willing my words to carry more truth than I felt. "She remembers us, Brother, especially those who take up Her banner and continue to fight the corrupt and the wicked in Her name. Let not your soul be troubled, for you are Her champion as much as I."

"I knew," he said. "I knew She sent you to prove to the lost templars, to remind us of our true duty. Magic is a gift. That we're supposed to protect the Maker's gifts. I knew."

"Thank you, for your unwavering faith. But I must ask you some difficult questions now. Can you answer them?"

"I will try."

Cullen's hand touched my shoulder. It was a thank you gesture. I resisted squeezing his hand, lest that was too forward for the moment. Taking a breath, I ignored my throbbing anchor, and forced my nerves to calm. "Tell me about the days before the event. Anything out of the ordinary spring to mind?"

He closed his eyes. "I run the supply chain with Knight Enchanter Adena and Knights Brycen and Fuller. We received our quarterly shipment from Orzammar. Fuller inventoried the weight. It was thirty pounds shorter."

"Thirty pounds shorter?" Seeker Corthwaite asked. "So it's been short before."

The lieutenant nodded. "Twenty pounds here, Twenty-five there, since the blight. No one seems willing to take responsibility for the error or to fix the shortages. The Chantry didn't want to help either. And after the Breach, sometimes, the only lyrium we could get was from Orzammar. We were courting the Carta, a last resort you understand."

"Why do you receive your supplies from Orzammar directly?" I asked. "Templars required to get their rations from the Chantry stores, aren't they?"

The seeker replied. "Due to Aeonar's physical location's constant flux, lyrium usage is not as reliable. Some days a templar would need more, some days less depending on the disruptions in the veil. So Aeonar has had special dispensation to augment the standard Chantry shipment. It's one of the many reasons Seekers were assigned regular visitations to audit the books."

"But you didn't know about the lyrium shortages?" I asked.

The seeker shook his head. "The chantry's focus was always lyrium abuse. So the extent of my audits was limited to post delivery. And I can assure you there were never discrepancies between what was received and what was used."

"Knight Commander Pandeshir suspected Carta siphoning and felt it best to let the issue alone," the lieutenant clarified. "Said that was the price of doing business with crooked dwarves."

"Anything else you can remember?" I asked. "Please, sometimes the most significant of clues hides in the smallest of details."

The lieutenant shook his head. "We locked up the supplies, the knight enchanter reset the wards, we set about our duties. We attended services. The reverend mother spoke of compassion and vigilance...vigilance...A warden visited the prison."

"A warden?" Silas repeated, shock and disbelief evident in his voice. "Here? How in Thedas does a warden even know where this place is located?"

"You're sure, a warden visited?" I asked.

The lieutenant opened his eyes. They were clear. "Yes, a warden of some rank. She made some demands that Knight Commander Mac Inoe was reluctant to acquiesce to. She was quiet, polite... There was something important about her. Why can't I remember?"

"Do you remember her name?"

"No...She was a mage though. Made some of the lads nervous. Not me though. Magic is a gift. I serve to protect, your worship. I always served to protect..."

His manner grew agitated. I touched his cheek. "I know, templar. Andraste knows, too. Be calm."

Cullen's worried voice drifted over my shoulder. "Seeker Corthwaite and I were going over the list of prisoners and the list of personnel. We can tell that not everyone made it out. What can you tell us about the situation inside?"

"Lost. They're all lost. The Maker is punishing those tortured souls."

Seeker Corthwaite offered the lieutenant a hand up. "Come on, Lieutenant. You've given us enough for now. Let's get you back to bed, you need a chance to restore your strength."

The lieutenant seemed reluctant to leave. "Your worship?"

I squeezed his hands. "Go. You have done your duty. It's time for you to rest and let me do mine."

He nodded then and allowed Silas to help him from the tent. I rose and took the opportunity to hug Cullen once we were alone. He kissed me with a soldier's impatience, urgent and heated. Then he pressed his forehead to mine and whispered, "I am so grateful you came. This place, it sucks all the joy out of you. It played on my fears we would never see each other again."

As much as I wanted to linger in his arms, I knew the distance he maintained for appearances, and I didn't know how long Silas would be. I pushed away with reluctance, and he let me go. I pulled the scorched document from my satchel. "Cullen, what do you make of this? Scout Harding found it and she's been hesitant to ask about it."

He read through what was there and paled, sending a bolt of fear through my spine. "She found this here?"

"Yes? I could make out little, but there's something called a--a lengar Sheat?"

"Felengar Sheathe," he corrected, a little too tightly.

"So you know what it is?"

His pause was telling. "It's a...controversial device originally designed to mute a mage's abilities while...transporting him from one place to the next."

The impact of his words twisted in my gut. "You mean it's a cage."

He shot me a wounded look. As if I accused him of inventing it. "Yes, I suppose cage is a better choice of word. At its basic mechanics, lead infused templar wards help suppress the influence of the fade, and the mage is...suspended inside. For the duration of the trip. I have only seen use of one once, long before my vigil. And the maleficar was powerful...Believe me, I don't think Knight Commander Greagoir had any other choice."

"Why is it so controversial?" I asked, but I didn't really want to know the answer.

Cullen didn't want to tell me either. "It's..." He looked away and slid correspondence about the table without purpose. "Well, it's..."

The seeker was back by then. "The occupant is not without pain. The cage doesn't just suppress the magic, Inquisitor. It feeds off it, uses the force to buff the wards. The more a mage struggles, the stronger the wards. The stronger the wards, the more oppressive the cage becomes. The more oppressive the cage becomes, the more the mage struggles."

I swore. "Maker's teeth."

Cullen groaned. "You don't know the half of it. Even Knight Commander Meredith thought the use of the Sheathe to be cruel."

" _The_ Meredith?"

Cullen nodded. "The Meredith."

"It was never meant to be a permanent solution to anything. Just a temporary reprieve of duty for weary templars tasked with bringing in volatile hedge mages and maleficarum." The seeker looked just as grim as Cullen. "I've never doubted its purpose, Inquisitor, nor have I ever faced a situation where I would have condoned its use. I have willingly worked alongside known apostates without fear. But some of the prisoners here? I can see how quickly I could throw my principles aside, knowing how many people they tortured and killed on their way into custody. But can I ask, why do you bring this up? Not that it's a well-guarded secret, but I haven't seen any outside of the Orlesian-Fereldan peninsula."

My response stalled where Cullen's didn't hesitate; a templar's implicit trust to his seeker. He handed the Silas the missive. "Our scouts found this document and brought it to our attention. Do you know anything at all about who that sheathe was requested for and why that request has come from Ferelden's crown?"

Silas read the document "Too bad it’s so damaged. This is the first I've seen of this letter, but there's someone I should introduce you to. Hopefully she can shed some light on this."

### Chapter Three

He led us through the makeshift hospice. A templar grabbed at my arm as I drew close. He was crying, his eyes full of both wonder and pain. Lips trembled, mouthing silent words, but he pressed his forehead to my anchor. The veil this thin, there was no way for me to suppress the mark's pulsating glow, and the templar despite his suffering was reaching out to the Herald of Andraste. For blessing? For comfort?

I could give him little of either, and it broke my heart. Cullen nudged my elbow, encouraging me to say something. "I know how you feel about being the Herald. But. Morale is a funny thing. Sometimes, just hearing Andraste loves you is enough. Give him hope, Inquisitor," he whispered. "It may just save his life."

I knelt beside the templar's cot, at a loss for what to say that wouldn't feel like a lie. "Blessed are they who stand before the corrupt and the wicked," I said after a moment, "and do not falter. Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just." 

He smiled and cried some more, whimpering where he lay.

I kissed his forehead, willing him to find strength in the gesture. "We are legion though we are few, and we will be remembered so long as we keep a faithful heart."

The templar calmed, releasing his grip at long last. I stood on shaky legs, deeply affected and fighting tears. Morale is a funny thing indeed. I would not have them see me cry.

A roasting spit was set up at the end of the Inquisition's scout supply tent. A blonde city elf tended to a venison roast with an air of obligated boredom, doing the job while dreaming of something more engaging. Her bright blue eyes widened at our approach. "You're the Inquisitor aren't you?" she asked, beaming. "Seeker Corthwaite mentioned you were coming."

"I am. Have you met Commander Cullen?"

Her eyes sparkled with daydreams, but something else too, like a flash of recognition at the name. "No I haven't. I'd remember."

As Cullen shifted, pinking, Silas apologized. "Amethyne arrived from Denerim a few days before you arrived, Cullen. She helped me assess the worst of it."

"From Denerim you say?" The ghost of the Theirin seal haunted my blood. Coupled with what Silas had inferred, I looked at her in a new light. "You're on business from the crown."

She smirked, but otherwise her reaction was calm. "Nice guess. The answer is complicated."

"Complicated how?"

She cast a furtive glance around. "Technically I'm here as a personal favor for Alistair the warden, not Alistair the king. One of his warden friends disappeared in the area. He asked me to make discreet inquiries and I found a right mess. I'm not much help with hospice. Hunting though, that I'm quite good at. Everyone eats. Since their stores were cut off...why are you asking anyway?"

Silas didn't tiptoe around the subject. "We're asking because I don't believe you've been entirely truthful with me. I came across a packet of documents with the Theirin seal, burned. You're here on the King's business, so what are you hiding?"

I thought his tone was unnecessary, but Amethyne tilted her head, eyes sharp and focused, and she pushed right back without flinching. "I'm not hiding anything, Shem. I'm protecting a confidence. Some people may think Alistair's an idiot, but I'm loyal to my king, who happens to be one of my uncle's good friends. If Alistair asks me for a favor and if he wants to keep the reason under wraps, I'm going to do everything I can to help--what?" Her eyes darted between us. "What am I missing?"

Silas shifted his weight and a thin smile breached his lips. "Reign it in, I came on too strong. I apologize. I'm used to barking orders at reluctant templars. Commander, the letter if you please?"

Cullen handed the elf the missive. She was quick with a response. "I swear I don't know anything about this," she said. Suspicion was awash on her face. "But that handwriting? That's Anora's script."

"Queen Anora? You're sure?" I asked.

"I'd know her handwriting anywhere. She gave me a list detailing my duties while at Fort Drakon, supposedly completely unaware that I was not one of her servants, the conniving bitch." She handed the missive back with a dark scowl. "My uncle had some choice words to say to her and she lost face in front of a hall full of banns."

"That only brings up more questions." Cullen looked as confused as I felt. "I thought, Alistair having benefited from templar training, he might be aware, but how in the Maker's name does Queen Anora know what a Felengar Sheathe is? Or where Aeonar is, for that matter?"

I breathed. "With that letter burned, we may never know the answer. We'll have to see what we can find when we search the tower for the missing Knight Commander."

"If you're going in, I'm going with you." Amethyne pulled the spit from the fire and dug her knife in the venison.

Cullen and Silas protested, their sense of duty to protect strong. I held off judgment, watching the way she handled the blade in her hand and the look of determination on her face. I cut through the dissent with a question. "You know what we could face in there, yes?"

She shrugged. "If you're worried about what I might see, don't be. I was in the Denerim alienage when the Archdemon showed up with his hoard of darkspawn. I fought Tevene slavers off the Amaranthine coast during my sixteenth summer. Blood magic is a hard fight but not impossible. Abominations smell like sulfur and acid when up close...I'm not ashamed to admit I lost my lunch the first time I killed a sloth demon."

I looked at Cullen. "She's going."

He scowled but he didn't argue. "As you wish, Inquisitor."

She jumped up from her task. "Yes! I'll just fetch Chanter Thevar and grab our go-packs."

"Wait, who--?" She bolted from the campfire before I could finish my sentence.

Silas groaned and stooped to finish Amethyne's work. "Sorry, your worship. I should have warned you. Amethyne and Thevar...well, they're kind of a packaged set. Thevar can fight though. A rage demon broke through as I was attempting to seal the outer gate, and Thevar thumped it while I was still scrambling. A man that has your back without being asked? There aren't too many out there who stick their neck out like that. Just...well, try not to stare."

"Stare?"

"He's not from around here, Inquisitor." Silas circled his face. "It's a little disconcerting if you're not prepared for it."

"I guess that makes us a merry trio then," I said with a sigh.

Silas raised an eyebrow, "Three of you, to take on the nightmare in that tower? We really should be considering annulment. It'll take an army to clear it out."

I weighed his words. "No, a small party is best, I think. The quarters are cramped and most of the Inquisition's forces won't have the fortitude to be that close to the Fade. Fewer people in, fewer people I have to drag out. And annulment is out of the question until we're sure all the survivors made it out."

Silas straightened and leaned a hand on the hilt of an old Dwarven axe frogged at his waist. "You think there are survivors still trapped in there?"

A somber cloud fogged Cullen's already serious expression. "It's been my experience that there are always survivors. Decisions that decimate their chances should never be made lightly."

"True." Silas heaved a sigh. After several heartbeats, he added. "Well, Inquisitor, I don't know whether that brag of yours is bravery or stupidity, but I suppose I'll not question the woman who saved the entirety of Thedas almost single-handedly."

"I don't recommend arguing with her, Seeker. If you win, it's because she lets you." Cullen said. "We should make ready, Inquisitor."

His intent was to come with me? My heart skipped a beat. It had been a long time since we fought side-by-side. But there were other concerns to consider. "Commander, I appreciate the thought, truly, but I need you here to oversee relief efforts."

Cullen remained firm. "Seeker Corthwaite can handle that well enough, and his presence will be of more use to the templars who may need a familiar face to aid recovery."

I tried a more personal approach. "Cullen, I--"

"And there's sensitive information in that tower. Technically, that prison is top secret Chantry business. I would like to at least give Most Holy the opportunity to select what gets made public knowledge. With two strangers going in and with the eyes of Orlais bearing down on the Inquisition..."

It was a fair argument. I owed the divine that courtesy, knowing she'd do the same for me. "I hate it when you're right," I said. 

### Chapter Four

An inquisition runner assigned to the Seeker's detail arrived. Silas excused himself to confer with the messenger. I felt Cullen stiffen beside me. "Inquisitor, do we have a moment before we get started? We need to speak," he said.

He was far too formal for my liking, even being in front of his peer. Nervous butterflies bred in my stomach. "Of course."

His hand swept outward, indicating I should follow. We walked in silence to a quiet corner in the stables. Cullen asked the acting stable hand, an Inquisition scout, to give us some space. I waited for the scout to leave with a heavy heart. It didn't bode well.

As questions of doubt and insecurity circled my thoughts, Cullen grabbed the base of my neck and kissed me hard, robbing me of sense and breath. The heat between us rose exponentially. When we parted and his hands returned to his side, I saw fear in his eyes that I hadn't seen since our intense 'what if' exchange in Skyhold's chantry, before I faced Corypheus for the final time. "Cullen," I pressed when his gaze retreated, "what's wrong? This isn't like you."

"I know." He sighed. It was a long time before his gaze returned to meet mine. "This place, don't you feel it? It's void of hope. The whispers from behind the veil won't leave me be."

"Andraste, Cullen, I'm so, so sorry. I didn't think. The toll this must be taking on you."

"It's not just that, I need to..." He rubbed the back of his neck and paced in the small space. "I have a confession of sorts. I owe you the truth, the whole truth About what happened in Kinlock."

His fear choked me. "You don't have to--"

"But I do. Our survival in there may depend on what I tell you now." He punched the wall, startling me, but it calmed him. I heard him breathe through his exercises, focusing, summoning the courage to tell me what he didn't want to say. "I told you they tortured me there. The blood mages, sneaking into my head, the desire demons working without to break my will."

I nodded. "You're afraid walking into a prison where such people are--"

"Yes, but not why you think. It's not just that they tortured me. It's who they tortured me with." He growled a frustrated sigh. "And Maker, we do not have time for this."

A heartbeat turned into several. I felt the strain of the veil pull at my anchor. The spirits were listening. I took a breath and cast a shield, twisting the very fade into an oubliette. "We have time; it's the only thing we truly have. No one can hear us now Cullen, not even the Maker Himself."

"Thank you. That will prove useful for more reasons than you know."

"Who did they use?" 

He looked guilty and regretful. "I need to explain something first. The week after my eighteenth birthday I took my vigil, my final vows. It was a terrible night outside. A hailstorm pummeled the tower for hours. They held off giving me my first lyrium draught because of it. Adjusting to the lyrium is hard enough, they said, without the incessant thrumming of hail. I didn't understand at first, but it was a kindness, one I am still grateful to Greagoir for. But that meant that I was still being monitored by the senior officers, and so I was part of the receiving party when our transfer arrived." He paused to breathe in his memories.

I thought back to what little he had told me. "You mean the Hero of Ferelden?"

He nodded, his face stained with crimson. "Under normal circumstances, my rank was insufficient. I would not have been on the dock when Kester helped her off the boat. She wasn't more than fourteen at the time? I remember her eyes, wide and scared and mistrustful. They handed me her phylactery for processing. The dose of lyrium new in my bloodstream made her phylactery glow like a beacon because she was so near. It was warm and it...sang to me."

"Her blood sang to you?" I recoiled at the image, grateful I had never been pursued by a templar with my phylactery. 

He acknowledged my reaction. "It does sound strange, I suppose. She looked at me with these big, scared eyes and like a Mabari, I just imprinted on her."

"Why was she transferred to Kinlock? If she was established at the Gallows, in my experience, they would have been reluctant to...unless..."

"Sadly, you are correct." It was clear I was trespassing. His shoulders sagged against an invisible pressure. "Her story is a tragic one, and not really mine to tell. I won't betray her confidence, but suffice to say she was in danger in Kirkwall, abused by the very people who should have protected her."

The look in his eyes spoke volumes. I imagined all of the abuses that could happen to a young girl in a vulnerable situation...I forced a breath. "Oh, Cullen, No wonder you felt the need to shelter her."

"We, uh, spent a lot of time together, all very innocent. Quiet conversations in the circle's library, the odd chess match here and there, and weeks became months became years. We had special dispensation, given her history. They didn't want someone of her ability to remain mistrustful of men in general and authority more specifically. Then one day I realized she was no longer the scared child forlorn and alone on a foreign shore, and I valued our time together more than any other duty I had. The realization I cared for her terrified me, to be honest."

"Towers are small, gossipy communities. Your partiality can't have gone unnoticed in the barracks."

He groaned. "It was a constant source of ribbing, at least at first. In the end, though, I think she was teased more than I."

"Your brothers stopped teasing you? What changed?"

"I don't know. Maybe I had better self-control than I give myself credit for or they lost interest and moved on. Perhaps it was respect they had for her skill."

"Was she really that talented?"

A secret pride showed in the corner of his smile. "When she came to Kinlock, she had already mastered area of effect, enough to blanket a room for hours without losing mana, to negate spells far more efficiently than twenty of my brothers together could manage."

I balked. Cullen wasn't one for exaggeration. "You're serious?"

His expression went back to stone. "Aside from perhaps First Enchanter Irving who had half an age of experienced mana at his command, I have only met one other person who came close to her measure of ability."

I noted his tone. He was hesitant. "Not me, I take it?"

A humorless chuckle met my challenge. "Sorry. You are exceptional, highly focused, and truly skilled. Your resolve has never failed to impress and I never feared what you were capable of."

"Solas then, or Morrigan?"

"No. Oh they certainly wield a great deal of power, but Warden Commander Amell's ability didn't stop with raw mana and knowledge of ancient rituals. Her compassion for broken things, her ability to read a situation...in that she has no parallel, except, perhaps, her cousin..." He ran a hand through his curls and shifted his weight. We had approached another tender spot. "Were you aware that the warden commander and the Champion of Kirkwall are related through their maternal lines? I didn't myself until Meredith told me to research them when the Hawke siblings' names started flooding our regular reports. It seemed I couldn't get away from her, no matter how far I went."

"Cullen, you said youthful infatuation when last I approached this subject. This seems..." I was careful to keep my tone inquisitive. It was not the appropriate time for jealousy or teasing.

The pain of heartbreak was evident. "Yes, that. My feelings may have been deeper than I initially implied."

"Why didn't you tell me Cullen. Did you not trust me?"

"Habit. You know I'm a private man by nature and after Uld--during the blight my feelings for her were a liability."

I took a breath. We all had our history. I had yet to tell him of the templar I fancied back in Ostwick. "It doesn't have to shame you anymore Cullen. It's okay to have loved her."

"Love." He grimaced. "I had a hard time with that word even then. It was always duty first."

"Did she feel the same about you?"

"I ..." He looked away, deep into a memory. "There was a moment, after her Harrowing, she sought me out...I stumbled through an apology and awkward words. I felt so, so guilty that I had been chosen to end her, if she had turned. She said she understood. Had she been more forward or I less guarded, I suppose." He coughed. "Maker knows I wanted to kiss her. Ah, this is so embarrassing to admit, to you."

"Cullen, you can tell me anything, you should know that by now."

"I know. I'm embarrassed I didn't have the courage to tell you sooner." He rubbed his neck. "And I never had the courage to tell her. I never thought myself a coward before now."

"No stop that, right now. Cullen Rutherford, I've never known a braver man than you. You help people and ask for nothing in return, no matter how great the personal risk. That is not the hallmark of a coward."

As you say, Inquisitor.” His voice grew tight and small. "Blood magic twisted my...love...for her. The desire demons offered versions of her to me, each one a little more sophisticated, a little more like her. But Duncan had recruited her, and all the wardens died at Ostagar. It was the thought she couldn't possibly have survived that kept me from surrendering. And what I said to her when she appeared at the tower..."

Tears reflected in his eyes but didn't fall. I tried to read his fear. "You're afraid we go into the prison that they'll twist our relationship and use it against us?"

"No." He took a breath and turned to look at me, hard. "You asked me once what I would do if you became an abomination. I told you the answer was complicated."

The butterflies returned to my stomach. It was a question I was sorry I had asked the moment the words escaped my throat. "I assumed you wouldn't let me become a danger to anyone, not after all you went through."

"I fear my training wouldn't leave me a choice." He shook his head. "My first failed Harrowing I put a blade through the transforming neck of my own charge, a mage with technical expertise i respected, though I can't say we were friends. I was numb. Congratulations swirled around me, Greagoir I remember told me to stick to my routine, it would help. I told him I was fine, just a little lyrium heady. I went to the barracks, sat down to write my sister Mia as I usually did after Harrowings, and vomited into the wastebasket as knowledge of what I had done hit me. Inquisitor, I culled the abomination without even thinking. It was instinct by then." He reached out to touch my cheek. "What I fear most about you and me walking headlong into that prison is what I can do to an abomination."

I pressed my head into his palm and sighed, trying to shake the ill feeling surrounding my heart. "You said you never feared my magic. But you fear I could become an abomination?"

"What I fear that I am not strong enough to survive their torture again. That all they would have to do is imply you have turned."

Horror filled the space around us. His fear drowned me, paralyzed me. An unnatural chill froze my blood as an image of me pleading for him to snap out of some trance and him pressing the point of his sword through..."Maker," I said.

"Blood magic corrupts everything," he said in a whisper. "Perception, illusion, deceit, these are the blood mage's toolbox. We are walking into the worst of the worst, with a veil so completely compromised, it's a wonder that it exists here at all."

I rocked on to my tiptoes and kissed him. "Whatever we face in there Cullen, we are stronger together than the sum of our fears. They will not break us because they cannot break us."

His finger traced my jaw to my lips and back to my ear again. There was more he seemed hesitant to say; his eyes spoke volumes of emotions. A heartbeat turned into years. A thin smile cleared the shadows from his expression. "Stronger. Together. I can live with that."

"Good." I kissed him again, with desire to chase away the gloom and concentrate on happier thoughts. "Since you're in a confessing mood. Care to admit when you first wanted to kiss me?"

"Oh, no you don't. I've been doing all the confessing." He teased. "Your turn."

"The moment I met you." I said. 

"I can tell when you're stretching the truth you know." He touched the corner of my mouth. "A smile always hides right there."

"Well, all right, though I was definitely curious about you." I smiled at the memory. "When you stood up to Chancellor Roderick for me. You were so calm and snide, and to be honest, if you had invited me to your tent right then, you would have been one very lucky ex-templar."

He pinked and cleared his throat. "I, uh, was not expecting that. I wouldn't have dreamed--"

"No?" I challenged. "Not even once?"

He closed his eyes for a moment, turning all the pinker. "A different discussion. As for kissing you...You volunteered to go distract Corypheus to give us a chance to evacuate. I waited, hopeful, praying, but knowing it was in vain. And then you crawled out of the snow and...I had witnessed a miracle, and it was selfish of me but I resented that I had to share that moment with the others. I carried you when you collapsed...It took every ounce of my self-control to leave you with Mother Giselle."

"Sounds like a tent moment to me."

The moment was warm, comfortable, and lingered in the air between us. Releasing the oubliette, I heard feet scrape across the wooden planks at the entrance to the stables. I watched the elf approach, a man in chanter robes a pace behind her. They were at odds as a pair. His foreign eyes and dark skin, ritualistic scars patterning his face. I was grateful for Silas's warning. If not for the chantry robes, the scars gave the chanter a terrifying presence. "Am I interrupting something?" Amethyne asked, shooting a look between us.

We morphed back into our professional selves. Cullen grayed with determination. "No," he said. "We're ready. Are you?"

The chanter held out his arms, palms up, and despite his accent, said in a manner that was easy, conversational, not at all expected, "Those prepared shall not falter, though the sky be dark with arrows."

Cullen finished the stanza like it was habit, "In the Maker's name advance." 

The chanter winked and brought a finger to his nose. Amethyne rolled her eyes. "Oh, why was I worried? You two are peas in a bloody pod."

### Chapter Five

Silas sealed the door behind us, and we started across the bridge to the inner-sentry-gate. Though we walked in silence, Whispers from the fade doubled, then tripled around us. Visions of shackled mages trudging ahead of us left me unsettled, my nerves aflame, and I concentrated on the throb of the anchor. 

"Inquisitor?" Cullen's voice reached into my mind. His eyes looked at me with trepidation and expectation. It wasn't the first time he tried to get my attention. 

"I'm here Cullen, I'm sorry." I forced a smile to ease the haunting of our ominous conversation. "I tuned out the Fade, and I guess I tuned everyone else out too."

Relief relaxed the lines in his face. "Very well, Inquisitor. I tested the supply office doors. They unlock fine, but..." He beckoned me to follow.

We spiraled down a quarter turn to discover a cave-in. Large boulders, too big to have occurred naturally, pinned the staircase beyond. I felt woozy, and reached out to steady myself against the wall. Lethargy pulled against my limbs and I lost the power or even the desire to move.

Cullen rubbed the base of his neck. "It'll take weeks to break through this mess. I hate to ask this of you, but can you...Inquisitor?"

I teetered and attempted to raise my heavy arms. "No, my mana is being siphoned by some sort of ward set on those rocks. It's old, powerful, feels wrong for templar based but what else could it be?"

"Well, it was a hope. Looks like we're going to need Durok's crew to clear this up. We'll press on to the lyrium locker." He offered an arm to assist me for the climb. I was grateful. Back into the lobby, the lethargy subsided and the anchor pain was back.

"Inquisitor, I think we found something." Amethyne looked up from the sentry desk she and Thevar hunched over.

"Oh?" I twisted to see.

Amethyne motioned me closer. "This is an event or shift log, I think." She leafed through pages of a cumbersome tome. "Mostly it's seeker's names, guard shift changes, chantry do-gooders checking on their wayward flock, that sort of rot."

"Is that a However I hear lingering in your voice?"

Her sly eyes slid to the corner. "A month ago, there was an anomaly. See here?"

Amethyne was right. I caught up on the recent entries quick. Regular shift changes were recorded with precision. Then, weeks ago, delays crept in. The handwriting became more and more illegible. A mage whose name was smudged beyond recognition was booked after months without transfers. I leafed forward to where Amethyne's finger rested. A very distinct name leapt off the page...

My heart froze. "Cullen..."

He crossed the space and looked to the name Amethyne pointed to on the page. "Warden Commander Amell?" he whispered. He spun about, and I could sense anger in the shift of the Fade's whispers. "This warden friend of the king's you've been sent to find. Is it the Hero of Ferelden?"

Amethyne and her chanter friend exchanged troubled glances.

Cullen was impatient. "Is she?" he pressed.

My anchor sparked bright with pain as the fade around us churned. Beside me, spirits pressed against the veil and I backed to watch.

A reenactment unfolded around us and Cullen gasped. _A specter of a woman in battlemage dress approached the sentry desk, a Mabari hound at her side. The sentry guard I recognized as one of the ailing lieutenants spoke. "And you are?"_

_The specter replied. "Warden Amell, Commander of the Grey, Ferelden. I have need to speak to one of your prisoners."_

_"Warden Comm--you're the Hero of Ferelden?" The lieutenant beamed and extended an eager handshake. "My lady it is an honor, a true honor to meet you."_

_"No, the honor is mine. My duty is a simple one. Yours is saintly, and for that I thank you."_

_"Well that's...say, how does an outsider such as yourself even know about this place?"_

_"I circled at both the Gallows and at Kinlock, Lieutenant."_

_"Ah, then you probably know of some people here. I'm sorry."_

_The commander gave a weary smile. "Know is a stretch, though I am responsible for sending some of them here. Wardens allow anything in use against the darkspawn, but blood magic and I have always been uneasy bedfellows. Still, I suppose I shall need clearance from your commander to conduct interviews yes?"_

_The lieutenant nodded. "It's just a formality at this point. I'm sure the Knight Commander will do anything for the Hero who saved us all. I don't know about your hound though..."_

_"Don't you worry about him. He survived Ostagar."_

_"I'll have to ask that you surrender your staff while on premises."_

_The Mabari huffed. Warden Commander Amell scratched his head before passing over a stave that shed crystals of ice. "Of course. Be careful with it though. It can cause frostbite."_

The vision faded. I searched Cullen's face; it was awash of emotion, despite how stoic he stood. 

Amethyne cursed. "As helpful as that was, I will never get used to visual memories."

The chanter seemed to agree. "And Eileen saw the world with new eyes, and in her wonderment, she bent her knee and praised the Maker's name."

Amethyne shook her head. "Sorry, Chanter, I'm not thanking the Maker for that."

He shrugged. "As you will, spoke Mattias. Though the Maker sees all."

"Her staff is missing. Do you see? The lieutenant placed it there." I pointed where traces of frost lingered against the wall, and the anchor reminded me of my painful burden. I rubbed my hand.

Cullen noticed. "Are you in pain?"

"It's sharper than usual, distracting, but that distraction is surprisingly helpful. I'll be fine."

Amethyne nudged the chanter and whispered something I didn't quite catch, but Cullen turned with embarrassment emblazoned in rust across his cheeks. "Come on, Inquisitor," he said, "We've a knight commander to find. The sooner we get this over with..."

I sighed, nodding. Amethyne was a keen observer, the result of being a skilled hunter, and she must have picked up on the cues in Cullen's voice, or, she had heard more in the stables than she was inclined to let on. The whisper wasn't meant to be heard, judging from the guilty look on the elf's angled face. The chanter met my gaze and tilted his head. "Short is the time of the brave," he said, motioning to follow Cullen.

It was a stanza that I didn't remember hearing before, but I pushed the thought from my mind and pressed after the men, Amethyne tearing out pages from the unwieldly tome and taking up the rear.

### Chapter Six

The spirits and demons seamed to wake as we passed, and we faced a few rage demons making our way to the staircase that spiraled to the second level. We fell into an easy rhythm, despite being strangers. At the top of the landing, Amethyne scavenged a few more healing elixirs from a petty box at the guard station and the chanter straightened the effigies on the Andrastian shrine.

Before we crossed into the cell block, my anchor flared again. I warned my companions. "I think we're about to have another vision."

_The warden's specter was back, walking towards the station guard. "You sure about this Warden Commander?" a ranking officer asked._

_Warden Commander Amell seemed unperturbed. "The process by which one becomes a warden can be lethal, Knight Captain. I was the only one of my group to survive my joining."_

_"But offering salvation--"_

_"Rest easy, Captain, what I offer is not salvation." The Hero's voice was warm, gentle, sympathetic. "That is the Maker's power, not a mage's. No, what I offer is opportunity for a fresh start. A warden's life is extremely taxing, but rewarding if one allows it to be."_

_The Mabari growled. Warden Commander Amell and the knight captain turned. "What the--"_

The wisps of memory dissipated once more. Cullen turned to our companions. "Was the warden commander on assignment to recruit someone from this tower?"

Amethyne was squatting next to a young stain in the granite floor stones. "The real question is who or rather what did this stain used to be and was it the reason the Mabari growled? Did you see the horror on the Knight Captain's face?"

"Yeah, but did you notice that Warden Commander Amell was unfazed by it?" I asked. "As a matter of fact, she almost seemed like she was expecting it."

That was not how I wanted to say that, and I knew the moment it left my lips it would anger Cullen. "Of what exactly are you accusing the Hero of Ferelden?" he asked, his voice tight.

I brought a hand to my chest as a gesture of apology. "Cullen, I wasn't accusing the warden commander of doing anything wrong. I merely wanted to point out that for a man who lives and works here of all places, he seemed truly horrified where Warden Commander Amell did not. She was calm, collected. That's not a normal reaction which could mean she was prepared in a way that the captain wasn't."

His eyes softened, but he still didn't like the implication. I expected him to jump to her defense again, but I was more surprised that it riled Amethyne. "Absolutely not!" The elf rose from her squat, fire blazing in her expression. "Inquisitor, you don't know the Hero, seeings how you're a Marcher, so let me enlighten you about the kind of woman she is. The Warden Commander faced overwhelming odds and she wanted nothing for her efforts. And even in the midst of--"

I didn't want to hear it. I never did respond well to guilt trips. "Ameth--"

"No, you don't get to make those sorts of judgments and then brush my opinions aside," she said, angry tears reflecting the ambient light. "The Hero of Ferelden made time for me amidst the chaos of the siege of Denerim. Me. A sick, orphaned, seven year old city elf no other shem could be bothered with. And she asked for nothing in return. Not from any of us. For the first time in ages a shem held a place of highest regard in our alienage."

Their emotions circled around me like wildfire. With each angry word, I could sense demons pressing closer, feasting on the fury. I lowered my voice. "You misunderstand my point. I happen to admire the Hero of Ferelden. There are few people in this world who could possibly understand what I had to go through."

I heard Cullen breathing, his calming exercise. There was still so much of the templar in him. "Amethyne, the veil around us is too thin to allow our emotions to get away from us." He stepped between us, giving me a human shield. "Attracting demons will only serve to make the situation worse. And despite what she said, or how we feel about the warden commander, Lady Trevelyan isn't wrong. She does have a fair point."

Amethyne sneered, "But--"

"And," he said, overtalking her, "we don't know what happened next. We're assuming the worst when for all we truly know, the knight captain's mother appeared before him. These visions are just one aspect of the truth, not all the facts are ever present."

I sighed with relief. "Yes, that. Exactly that." With a gentle hand I pushed Cullen aside. "Amethyne, We have to be very careful with the facts that we discern from these displays. Spirits, demons alike, twist what was real based on the direction they want to manipulate us. Cullen, you told me you presided at her Harrowing?"

"That is correct. Her Harrowing was quickest, cleanest I had ever seen. And she didn't show an ounce of fear."

I turned back to Amethyne. "It is then far more likely that if there's a bad situation developing before her eyes, she is calm because that's her nature to be. Or maybe it was a stray genlock or something. Wardens can sense darkspawn. I meant nothing sinister."

Amethyne regarded me with shrewd eyes, judging the merit of my words and the value of Cullen's combined. Finally she relaxed her guard and brushed the moisture from her eyes. "I apologize then, your worship. It's just...well she saved me. Saved Thevar, too. And she is the kindest shem I ever met. Ask her about the traitor Mac Tir sometime. She'll tell you with regret that he was once the Hero of River Dane, and she will never mention his treachery against the crown."

The chanter agreed with another stanza. "Compassion for toppled souls is the Maker's province and a blessing wielded by the wisest of His children."

Cullen cocked his head, distracted. "I thought that was lesser instead of toppled."

Amethyne replied on behalf of her friend. "Probably, but the modern chant was adopted by the eastern countries only. As an Orth, he's more familiar with the older texts. The disparate dogmas and doctrines over the ages have warped much."

The spirits relaxed about us, and my anchor settled back into a dull throb. The danger was stilled for the moment. I released the breath I held, finding relief in the unsteady calm, surrounded by a flood of passive whispers.

"Oy, Inquisitor, you coming?" Amethyne asked, snapping her fingers in front of my nose.

"Right, sorry." I felt the burn of embarrassment on my cheeks and cast a questioning glance at Cullen. His eyes spoke volumes of concern though his manner was stone. "After you."

The cell block was stacked with prisoners, all of whom had turned. Hunger and sloth abominations pressed against the lyrium lined bars. It unsettled me, the ease at which we dispatched them. The chanter whispered last rites with each one, and Amethyne cross referenced the station watch's list to occupied cells. The silent sweep of the floor went quick and before long we were ready to advance to the next level.

As we entered the stairwell, my anchor flared again and a tell-tale green scar appeared in our path. "It's closed, right?" Amethyne asked, her fingers twitching over the arrows in her quiver.

"Yes and no? Think of it like...stitches given to a battle wound. Stitches alone will work fine without a Healer's magic. Skin and tissue eventually knit together. An expert field physician with a practiced hand can even keep the stitches so small that one might never see the scar after the wound is completely healed."

"So it could knit on its own?"

"Corypheus didn't create the tears in the veil. They occur naturally in places that have seen too much death. Theorists in my old circle felt it had to do with the rush of souls that pass through the fade to the Maker. Whatever the cause, there is still a risk of the scar becoming...infected right? Without the proper care."

"So what do we do?" Amethyne asked.

I inhaled deep. "I open it. We fight anything that comes through. Then I slam it shut for good."

"Wonderful."

I held up my left hand. "Everyone ready?"

### Chapter Seven

Another surprise met us on the next floor. A woman knelt in Andrastian prayer before a small shrine. The slate floor did little to disguise the blood and gore that coated the hallway. Cullen lowered his shield. "Lily?" 

The woman stopped praying and leapt to her feet only to cower beside a cabinet. "Don't come any closer bloodmage," she shrieked, pointing at me.

Cullen took a step closer and folded to her eye level. "Lily, do you remember me?"

Warmth and slow recognition replaced the fear and doubt that laced her features. "Brother Cullen...no that's wrong isn't it. That's wrong. You're a Lieutenant. Knight Lieutenant."

I heard his dry chuckle. "Actually I'm--"

Amethyne whispered harshly, "Careful, the girl is vacant. Whoever she was isn't whole anymore."

"I'm well aware. I have seen this sort of trauma before." Cullen replied with a soft whisper over his shoulder, before finishing with Lily. "I'm a Commander now."

A sneer born of hatred smeared across her lips. "Did that arrogant son of a maleficar Greagoir finally die?"

Cullen cleared his throat. "No, he's alive and well, retired to Denerim now."

"Such a shame. He sent me here you know." Lily frowned and clutched at the cabinet, digging her nails in. "He could have sent me to Fort Drakon. Or to the White Tower. You could have prevented it too, if that witch hadn't had you so ensorcelled."

She pointed at me again. Cullen's tone was pieced together with confusion and irritation. "Uh, Lily, This is the Inquisitor, Lady Trevelyan of Ostwick. You've never met."

"Oh?" Vacant eyes sparked to dull wit and she searched my face, intent. "Well, don't trust her, Cullen. She's a bloodmage. Just look at her."

Amethyne threw up her hands. "Oh, wow, but this woman is off her pyre."

Cullen offered his hand. "Up you get, Lily. We've some questions for you."

"Questions. Questions. Always Questions." She shook her head. "They say it was questions that drove me mad. Not so, for it is you who have no answers."

"Have you seen the Knight Commander? He didn't report in after the disaster."

"I'm a convict here, not an acolyte," she said. "I imagine he's in his office, below the observation deck."

"Can you tell us what happened?" I asked. "Where all this blood came from? Are you injured?"

She shrieked and pointed a shaky finger at Cullen. "The bloodmage is asking questions, Knight Lieutenant. Can you hear her?"

Cullen looked away. He was struggling. "Lily," he said finally. "Lily, the Inquisitor isn't a bloodmage. She can't be. She's a knight-enchanter."

"They all died. At Ostagar." Lily drew a finger across her neck with a slurping sound effect swirling in her mouth.

"You mean the Conclave, and no, not all of them died."

"I know," she hissed, Like Lightning, the tiniest sliver of sanity flashed in her crazed expression. "I'm speaking of the wardens, knight lieutenant, oh, but you're a commander now. Knight Commander Cullen does sound much better than Commander Greagoir."

I swore at that moment Cullen had the patience of Andraste herself. "Thank you, I guess. Why did you bring up the wardens? What did they have to do with this place, do you know?"

"Are you--" She looked back and forth between us. "You are, aren't you?"

"What?"

"You're here to finally arrest that maleficar. The one who deceived us all. The one who ran."

"Jowan? Jowan poisoned Arl Eamon," Cullen said, voice firm. "He was executed for his crime. There's no one left to arrest."

"Yes there is! We trapped her. We told her a story that we were helping her but then we trapped her just like she trapped me." Lily giggled. "She corrupted him, did you know? Did you know that he loved her, too? Just like you? Everyone loved her. But not me. I saw through her lies too late to save him."

"Inquisitor," Amethyne whispered at my side, "tell me she's not talking about the Hero."

I had no idea how to draw that correlation, but Cullen spoke before I could. He sounded sick. "What are you saying Lily? Are you saying you trapped Warden Commander Amell here?"

A vacancy reflected behind her eyes. "Warden Commander? Warden...warden...I don't remember seeing a warden. There was a warden, once, long ago. Duncan was his name. He was kind. Do you remember him?"

Amethyne nudged my side. "We're going to get nothing solid out of crazy. My suggestion? Find an empty cell, and lock her up until we get the path clear to the lyrium locker."

Lily crawled the space to Cullen, begging. "Please, don't lock me up. Please. Greagoir, please don't send me to Aeonar. I didn't know Jowan was a blood mage."

Cullen rose, anger and irritation radiating from his core being. "We can't leave her behind on her own. We can't trust her."

Amethyne snarked, "And if she comes with us, I can't guarantee I won't put her out of our misery."

They both looked at me, expectantly. I sighed and turned to Thevar. "Chanter, what do you think?" It was a rhetorical question. I expected a stanza about mercy or forgiveness.

The chanter shook his head, a grim shadow crossing the scars in his countenance. "The veil parted and Mattias saw the demon for what it was, and armed with the Maker's truth, slayed the beast with a clean and righteous strike."

"You're serious? These are my options? Leave her behind, take her with us, or put her down like a rabid animal?" The anchor pinched and rolled, and I shook the cramp free with a hiss. "Fine. We'll take her with. There's no need for unnecessary slaughter. And if we leave her to stew in her own mess, a demon could take advantage of her in our absence."

Amethyne rolled her eyes. "Your call, but I vote we bind her up."

It was not an unreasonable request. Cullen retrieved a pair of manacles from the bin behind the guard station. She calmed once she was shackled, as if the familiar weight was a close companion. "What can you tell us about what happened here, Lily?" I asked. "There is far too much gore and you are far too clean."

Lily looked at me with sad eyes. "The tranquil was a gentle man. The Knight Enchanter said it should not have happened. That it's impossible."

"What's impossible?"

"The tranquil screamed," Lily said. "The knight enchanter couldn't calm him. His magic was too much, too fast and...oh, there is a lot of blood."

Cullen didn't like that answer. "The Knight Enchanter is right. Tranquil cannot just spontaneously connect to the fade."

Lily nodded. "That's what I thought too. But, after all, the knight enchanter is just a mage. How well can we really trust mages?" She looked at me with venom.

The insults had to stop. I adopted a stance I rarely took. Ignoring the snide admonition Chancellor Roderick gave me about using the title when convenient, I held out my palm to show the anchor. "That's enough out of you, Lily. I am Andraste's chosen. I bear the mark she gave me to protect her faithful. She chose a mage to deliver her message of love and liberty. Please respect me and leave your hatred of mages out of this."

I could see the cogs spinning in her head as she processed my remark. "If you are truly as you say," she said, clarity echoing in her voice, "Then I humbly seek your forgiveness."

"Thank you." I turned away.

Lily added, "And if you are not but a false prophet, I will pity you, for the Maker will seek his vengeance and cast you to the void for your deception."

I groaned and wondered if maybe the chanter had the right idea after all.

### Chapter Eight

We advanced with Lily in tow, and within steps of entering the main cell block, we were swamped with abominations, all free from their cells. "Back to back, in the center," Cullen barked. "Now!"

He dragged Lily to the middle of the aisle way and pushed her to her knees. We three were fast at his heels, and with mere seconds left to spare, formed a square, backs to each other, Lily in the center.

I thrust a gravitational shield around us and summoned my spirit blade. We lashed out at everything that moved towards us. A flood of fury and fire lashed at us from every angle. The noise was unbearable. Piercing screams of wraith and wisp assaulted my ears, and above it all, the chant of a woman in prayer. Lily screamed Blessed are the peacekeepers with zealous focus. 

Amethyne raised her voice over the din. "Thevar, I am so sorry I ever thought you tedious. Can someone shut her up?"

My mark flared as a flash of blinding green light popped open at the end of the hall. "Rift! I can't reach it from here," I shouted.

Cullen responded, "That means we have to move you closer. Thevar, on my mark, you shift to the front and push forward. I'll shift to the rear. Amethyne I'm entrusting you with our charge."

"That's a lot of trust to put in a mere elf." she shouted back.

"You're an elf? I hadn't noticed. Ready?" Cullen warned. "Go!"

Thevar jumped to my front and started swinging, knocking obstacles out of the way. I wove flames and ice together and spun the spell about to finish off whatever survived Thevar's sweep. I could hear Cullen's fighting grunts at our rear and breathed easier. Amethyne, despite her role, wasn't idle either, for she jabbed out with a dagger whenever something drew too close. 

"I'm there!" I announced, feeling a gravitational draw of my anchor to the rift. The catch was strong with this one, and it fought me. By the time I slammed it close, I felt truly spent, and I collapsed against Cullen when the immediate danger passed.

My nap was short-lived and dreamless despite the influences of everything around us. I woke to the smell of food and the relieved look in Cullen's eyes. "Welcome back, Inquisitor." He whispered.

"I'm so sorry. How long was I out?" I asked, pressing up off the floor to sit against the wall, disturbing a rack of brooms before settling. We were in a small...janitorial? closet. Amethyne shoved a lukewarm pasty in my hands and I added, "Long enough for me to miss lunch, I take it?"

Cullen shook his head. "Actually, not that long. Thevar had those pies wrapped in a baker's towel in his pack, which is why they retained some heat. We'd be eating cold otherwise."

"My thanks to Thevar then," I said, feeling some life return to my mana reserves.

"And Eileen spoke unto the masses," he said in response. "My hearth is yours. My bread is yours. My life is yours."

"You know, Thevar," I said, swallowing a bite. "I hope this doesn't offend you but you're the only chanter I've ever met who managed to make the chant feel like normal conversation instead of sanctimonious screeching."

He bowed where he sat on the floor, with his fist at his heart and a warm smile at his lips. "Faith void of passion is a winter of words that falls like snow in the deaf forest of men."

Cullen twisted. "That is not in the chant. You, Ser, are cheating."

Amethyne broke out in giggles. Thevar spoke then, with the passion of a general on the eve of battle, "And Shartan took up his bow and followed, for though he kept a heathen faith, he would bind his fate to hers and see his people free."

The puzzlement in Cullen's expression morphed into disbelief. "Is that from...The Cantical of Shartan? How does a chanter end up citing the dissonant verses?"

Amethyne's giggles subsided. "I mentioned Thevar is Orth? He's from a remote tribe in the Anderfels. The best we ever understood, his people were slaughtered by the roving bands of darkspawn. The branch of the Chantry that took him in never participated in and therefore never ascribed to the Exalted March that decimated the elves and stripped Shartan from the chant. Never understood why Thevar came to Highever. He was looking for someone he decided he'd never find, I suppose, and so he joined up with the Highever Chantry. The Reverend Mother was furious and had Thevar stripped of his vestments and excommunicated from the chantry. My uncle smoothed things over, and the reverend mother transferred on. But Thevar didn't return to the fold. The Exalted March on the Dales was wrong, Commander. The chantry had no business. sending swords to subdue the Dalish. It was nothing but political vengeance striking Shartan from the chant. And the chantry treated it like an inconvenient truth that he was fed to the flame alongside Andraste--what? A chanter can't have principles?"

I considered that. "Why still be a chanter then, Thevar, if the Eastern Chantry is hostile towards you?"

"Speak only the word. Sing only the chant. Then the golden city is thine, spake Andraste," he replied.

Amethyne added on his behalf, "He takes his vows seriously, Inquisitor. Unlike the chantry sister in our midst."

The comment didn't slip past Lily. She shot Amethyne a look. "I never took my final vows."

Amethyne sneered. "Because your vocational training became inconvenient when you fell in love with a blood mage! What, Jowan gets up your robe filling your head with false promises so then you cast Andraste and the Maker's Covenant out the window? How is that not breaking oaths?"

Thevar grabbed Amethyne's shoulders and reined her in. Lily took a knee and repeated "blessed are the Peacekeepers" over and over. The throb in my hand triggered an ache in my head. Despite the ache, I wondered at Amethyne. She knew more than she was telling. Her anger...her promise to the king...this felt personal.

Cullen's quiet voice cut through the din and silenced us all. "Amethyne, what do you know of Jowan?"

Amethyne, a pale girl to begin with, lost all color in her features and her lips thinned to a fine line. Her response didn't come until Cullen repeated his question. With a guilty sigh, she said with a meek tone, "When the blight ended, the Hero of Ferelden convinced our new king to take the alienage orphans on as wards of the crown. not that it took much to convince Alistair. He jumped at her suggestion. Anora though, I think, resented the idea. Maybe because she didn't or couldn't take credit? Maybe she hates elves? I don't know. That's when Uncle Fergus volunteered to foster me."

"Uncle Fergus?" I blinked. "Highever Chantry? You're speaking of Teyrn Cousland?"

She nodded, sorrow marking her expression. "He said it was the least he could do. My father died in '28. My mother was part of Lady Landry's entourage when she visited Highever, the night Arl Howe's men slaughtered the entire castle. Fergus needed me as much as I needed him. We gave each other a reason to wake in the morning. As it turns out, Uncle Fergus and Alistair became fast friends after the coronation. And when Nathaniel Howe passed through on Warden business, he made a point to give me his condolences. Anyway to answer your question, I spent a lot of time at Fort Drakon, speaking with Arl Eamon, Arl Teagan..."

Cullen ran a hand through his curls and rubbed the back of his neck. I added all the pieces together, feeling like the only latecomer to the party. "And you said Jowan was the maleficar who poisoned Arl Eamon?"

"I don't know all the details, but yes, I know that the Hero and Jowan were once friends, and that his actions at the circle led to her recruitment into the wardens..." Amethyne said. She reached out to Cullen, resting a tiny hand on his armor. "There are few things from before the blight that she speaks of, save for you. If it's any consolation, I think Warden Commander Amell misses you."

He winced. "She misses the man I used to be, maybe. My behavior the last we spoke...it was unforgivable."

"Amethyne, Cullen asked you before...Is Commander Amell the warden you were sent to locate?"

She chewed on her lower lip. "Yes."

Cullen stiffened. "Why didn't you tell us?"

"Honestly? I didn't know you. I mean, Alistair and Teagan both expressed gratitude when it comes to what you have done for Ferelden, Inquisitor, but this is supposed to be a discreet inquiry, nothing more. We never expected to find a mess, and we certainly didn't expect to run into you."

It bothered me, that the Hero was here at all. "Before I faced Corypheus for the last time, I received communication from the warden commander. She made it sound like she was far to the west or the south. She said she was beyond Corypheus's influence. It doesn't make sense for her to be here. Does it?"

Amethyne scratched her head. "She sent Alistair a message, rather out of the blue. He was going to come himself. It took Aemon and Teagan both to calm him down. I was on my way back to Highever when they asked if I could do this small favor."

"Did she send the message from the tower, or the area? Do you know?" I asked, thinking.

Cullen shifted. "You think she discovered something here in the tower? Something they had a personal connection with?"

"Or someone?" I looked at Lily, deep in prayer and wondered. "Amethyne, is it possible the Hero spared Jowan's life instead? Perhaps smuggled him from Redcliffe--"

"No." Amethyne was adamant. "Jowan wasn't that kind of friend Inquisitor."

I shot a sidelong glance to Cullen, who shook his head. "No, not that kind either," he said.

Amethyne brought a palm to her forehead and groaned. "Ug, that came out wrong. I meant...She was Jowan's tutor, first. She never liked that he tried to take shortcuts, and she never covered for him when he did. She definitely would not have tolerated his use of blood magic. There's no way she would have spared his life, not after knowing what he did."

Lily grumbled. "She berated often. She made him feel inadequate. It's why he turned to blood magic. It's all her fault."

Cullen snorted. "Hardly. If Jowan was any sort of man, he would have taken responsibility for his actions, not run to blood magic the moment something was difficult to achieve. I'm done listening to this Inquisitor," he said, his voice sharp, "whenever you're ready."

### Chapter Nine

Amethyne salvaged a few supplies from the closet, including some coin from a box hidden in the corner. Cullen pointed to a maul on a weapons rack as we passed a guard station. "Chanter," he said, "that's made of Dwarven steel. The trace lyrium patterns provide extra damage to demons. Depending on the balance, you may prefer that one over your current weapon."

Thevar tested the maul and nodded. "The Maker's beauty rests in all things, the first light of dawn, the rain gentle on thirsty sands--"

"And in the practiced labors of master craftsmen." Cullen finished with a bow.

I heard voices in a nearby office, faint and calm. I shook my head and drew on my mana to help focus, expecting the voices to disappear. For several heartbeats it seemed to work. Then the voices returned.

"Cullen, please tell me you hear that." I thumbed towards the office.

He responded with a tight nod, slipped his shield from his back, and drew his sword within a breath. "Your order, Inquisitor."

I turned to Amethyne. "You and Thevar watch Lily. We'll investigate first."

"Be quick, your worship," Amethyne said. "Patience has never been my strong suit."

I tapped Cullen's shoulder and he followed me to the office door. I cracked it open to peek in. Three figures moved about, cleaning. I motioned to Cullen to stand down. "Tranquil," I whispered. 

"Maker's breath." He resheathed. "What's your call?"

"I don't know how they survived, but we can't leave them here." I looked up at him. "Can we? They're not safe."

"They'll refuse to quit their post, Inquisitor."

I thought on that. "We could, well, _you_ could reassign them to the lobby."

He looked back at our companions, and beyond them. "I'm confident we have dispatched all the demons to this point. But they're not going to listen to me. I'm not a templar anymore--"

"They don't know that. And Lily thinks you are." I chewed on my lower lip. "I call you Knight Commander, her lunacy will support the ruse."

"Well, it'll work as long as I don't have to negate magic to prove anything." He peered in through the crack. "If they were last issued challenge orders for a change in command however..."

I tapped his arm. "But they'd have no way of knowing if your test worked. They're not mages."

"Yes but you are...wait, I see your point. That could work." He backed up, silent and slow. "Let's fill the others in."

Amethyne giggled when we got them up to speed. "I love it," she said. "It'll make for a nice change of pace, yeah?"

"Right then." I took a breath and bowed an arm out towards the office. "After you, Knight Commander."

He smirked, pausing long enough as he passed to say, "You're enjoying this a bit too much I think."

I smiled in return and took up position in the rear, as a Knight Enchanter required. He was right. I had to agree with Amethyne. A little subterfuge brought a small amount of fun to the painfully serious situation. Thoughts of Sera bubbled to the surface. The antics we used to get up to...

Cullen opened the office door with authority, mid-sentence. "--and I expect the transfer orders will be--hello, what's this?"

Amethyne snapped to attention. "Three tranquil, Knight Commander, Ser."

"The lieutenant said the prison was evacuated?"

"He did, Ser."

"Then why am I looking at three tranquil?"

"Ser?" 

Cullen snapped his fingers and pointed to one polishing the silver. "You, what's your name?"

With simple moves, the tranquil set the silver down. "My name is Cobble, Ser," he said, with the flat tone I was expecting.

"This won't do. Cobble, you and your comrades will vacate the premises, immediately." Cullen waved at Chanter Thevar. "You, give them rations."

"Apologies, Ser," Cobble said, as Thevar reached into his pack to pull out more pasties. "We have not been granted leave by the knight commander."

"Knight Commander Pandeshir is dead, Andraste preserve him. Your other knight commander is derelict checking in." Cullen said, with command and impatience. "I am Knight Commander Cullen Rutherford, assuming command during the interim while we await Most Holy's confirmation of her new candidate."

"That is...most improper," Cobble said. 

"I must disagree, Cobble," said another tranquil in an equally flat tone. "It is standard emergency protocol."

"Yes. Of course." Cobble left his silver and rose. My heart dropped at the full view of the sunburst brand upon his forehead. Though I knew he had to be starving, Cobble accepted a pasty without a show of interest. "Thank you, Knight Commander Cullen Rutherford. It has been a long time since we last ate."

The other two responded the same, but they did not leave. I gave Amethyne a gentle prod, to move things along.

"Knight Commander, Ser," Amethyne said. "Your team will be ready for annulment soon."

Cullen raised his hand in a dismissive gesture. "Thank you, Scout, I am well aware of our time constraints. Cobble, I must ask that you and your team rendezvous in the lobby immediately. We will meet you there once we've assessed the tower."

"The two by two command requires a challenge and response, Knight Commander," Cobble replied.

"Maker, we do not have time for this." Cullen turned and signaled at me. "Knight Enchanter, if you would please."

"Very good, Knight Commander, Ser." I conjured a ball of ice and floated it into the room. Cullen turned fully, away from their field of vision, to hide his mist-less eyes. When he snapped his fingers, I dropped the ball, allowing it to rain apart and sploosh to the floor. I staggered back and brought a hand to my head to sell the ruse. Lily applauded with a squeal.

Cullen returned to Cobble and asked, "Is that sufficient?"

"Yes. That is quite sufficient. Thank you Knight Commander." Without another word, the three tranquil filed out of the room. I heard them march to the stairwell. They were following the order.

Amethyne darted to the doorway to watch their retreat. "They're gone now," she said.

Cullen heaved a sigh. "May Andraste forgive me, I hope I never have to do that again. I'm beginning to understand your aversion to being the Herald."

I folded my arms. "And I'm beginning to see how sometimes these ruses are necessary. We're saving lives." 

Cullen tossed a precursory look about the office. "Yes, well. Let's see if there's anything in this office that can explain what's been going on. Lily, do you know who this office belongs to?"

Lily looked half-asleep, her eyes drooped along with her shoulders. "It's supposed to be a secret." Before I could express my irritation however, she added. "The knight commander's office, but he moved out a couple days ago."

_Why would that be a secret?_ I thought. I rolled my shoulders back and straightened up. "Let's get to it then."

The bookshelves revealed the standard Templar selections, essays on swordplay and demon weaknesses, and how to cope after a traumatic event. The desk had stacks of personnel papers ready for approval that had yet to come. Things were arranged and tidy and nothing seemed suspect at all.

"Hello, what's this?" Amethyne said. She tugged at a bookcase with a grunt.

"Find something?" I asked, as we turned our attention to her.

"I think so. This shelf moves. See the scratches?" She pointed to the floor. Streaks of subtle grooving displaced the worn stone at the base of wooden case. "Thevar, Cullen, could you?"

The men helped the elf shift the bookcase, revealing a locker in the wall. It was warded against magical and physical breaches. We exchanged looks. "Now what?" Amethyne asked.

Thevar stepped closer and rapped his knuckle against the wall space around the locker. He tapped and tapped with his ear close and listening. Then, he pulled his hammer and aimed with a mighty swing at the last spot he heard. The wall gave way to a sizable cavern. He bowed with a fist to his heart.

Amethyne giggled and reached in. "It's like breaking into a chest by removing the hinges on its lid." She withdrew a stack of vellum, smiling. "In this case all that makes the locker was the door itself."

Cullen rubbed his neck. "Of course the ward would only be on the door."

"Cullen, don't look the gift of lax security measures in the mouth." I nudged Thevar. "You are officially my favorite chanter."

Amethyne brought the contents to spread out on the desk. Cullen shifted through some of the documents and then snatched a paper from Amethyne before she could investigate. Before she could retaliate, he spoke with soft words. "These are chantry documents and this is still a chantry affair. I promise to share, but respect that it is our scope to decide."

After several heartbeats of consideration, she relinquished. "You're right. Thevar and I will mind the door and keep watch for creepy crawlies."

"Cullen, that was a little out of character for you," I whispered as I joined his side. "Is any of this that critical?"

His hand shook. He looked disgusted. "I never thought I'd use that excuse for something like this. You're right to question my motives. My judgment is clouded. This is personal. I'm sorry, Inquisitor."

"Stop. I understand." I looked over his arm. "Correspondence, missives. Anything like that letter from Queen Anora?"

"No."

I gingerly selected a document, a letter, addressed to First Enchanter Irving at Kinlock, and gasped. "Maker," I swore, reading its contents. "A transfer request for Apprentice Amell from Kirkwall. The Viscount himself requested it? That's unheard of!"

"Inquisitor, what is it all doing here?" he hissed through clenched teeth. "These copies, these should never have left Kinlock."

I thumbed through other pages, hoping to find an answer as I trespassed on the details of the Warden Commander's life. "There's a notation here that says the warden commander requested her file to be shipped to Weisshaupt. In response to criticism I wonder? From the wardens or maybe the crown?"

"Or the chantry." He chose a letter and after a moment, tears gathered in his eyes. "Andraste preserve me, I never knew of this. They never told me..."

His shaking hands worsened and he had to set it down again. "Let me?" I whispered.

He nodded, placing his hands firmly on the desk.

I cleared my throat and double checked that Amethyne and Thevar had their attentions to the hall beyond. Addressed to Knight Commander Greagoir at Kinloch Tower, 9:30 Dragon, the letter was written with the same clean script as Warden Commander Amell's signature had been in the shift book. I read aloud.

> "Ser, I do not know if this letter will reach you. Darkspawn have decimated West Hills and threaten Redcliffe now. Teyrn Loghain has purchased a contract for my head from the Antivan Crows. But I wanted you to know that Teagan Guerrin, Bann of Rainesfere, has captured Jowan, and with a generous heart, has seen fit to allow me to carry out his execution.
> 
> 'Jowan's death was too clean, perhaps, for all that he has wrought. I hope you never have cause to know the scope of the crimes he committed while apostate. At one time, though, he considered me a friend, and so I carried out his sentence with Hessarian's Mercy. I realize it is little and late for all we witnessed at Kinlock, but Maker willing, maybe news of his death will bring some justice and comfort to your men."

Breath caught in my throat as my thoughts went to Thom Rainier. The warden commander's decision was perhaps as difficult as mine had been. Cullen whispered, "Go on."

"Er yes." I found my place. 

> "I would like to beg a favor of you, if and when it is appropriate to do so. Would you please forward my sympathies and regrets to Knight Lieutenant Rutherford? I know a little of the deep personal loss and torture at the hands of those who should know better and I feel his pain acutely.
> 
> 'Watch out for him, please. Cullen is as dear to me as any friend or family. I owe him for my life, and for more, debts that may never be repaid. The Archdemon threat is too great, and we don't have the warden numbers we need. The odds for my survival are grim and I won't have the chance to tell him goodbye.
> 
> 'Thank you again, for keeping me safe these many years. Maker's blessings upon you.

'Warden Amell...Cullen, I--"

"I never once thought Greagoir one to hide things. He never once mentioned this letter. And that's his notation at the bottom, instructing Oswyn to file it."

"Would it have changed anything?" I asked, rubbing his arm. His muscles tightened at my touch instead of relaxing. "You said it yourself you were in a bad place, that you wanted only to leave Kinlock."

"Perhaps not at the time." He looked at me with a dark, pained expression. "But later, knowing she said those words, that she thought of me when...when..."

"Maybe it would have made things worse. Maybe Greagoir was just trying to protect you."

"Maybe."

Amethyne whistled from the doorway. "Can I suggest we read through that later? Lily's prayers are starting to grate and I've got a bad feeling settling in my gut."

"Uh, yeah," I said and scooped all the documents together in a neat bundle. "We'll see these get back to the warden commander. Are you ready to go or do you need more time?"

He straightened and held out a steady hand. "I am well enough. I am eager for the knight commander to explain how this file is here. Let's get the mission done."

### Chapter Ten

Lily grew more agitated and despondent as we herded her through the corridors. Based on the prisoner manifests, Cullen indicated that Lily's cell was nigh upon us. I might have felt sympathy for her, if she hadn't taken every opportunity to accuse me of witchery and blood magic.

"I hate to be a nuisance," Amethyne said, "but how close are we to getting to the purser's lyrium locker? The sooner we can get out of here, the sooner we can lock crazy up again."

My hand flared green and sent pain through my blood. I cried out and dropped to my knees as white flooded my vision. I could sense Cullen at my side in an instant, but I couldn't respond. I was frozen. Above the blood pumping loudly in my ears, I could hear Lily laughing.

_"You're in pain. I can help."_ A calming, almost familiar voice whispered in my mind.

"Cole?" I screamed through another pulse of crippling pain. "Cole, thank the Maker."

_"All you have to do is let me in, Inquisitor."_

That was wrong. Something was very off. I could see it even through my pain. A heavy weight filled my mind and cluttered my thoughts.

_"Just let me in, Inquisitor."_

"No," I whispered.

"Inquisitor!" Cullen appeared before me, hands gripping my shoulders and shaking. "Come on, fight!"

I closed my eyes and tried to push the weight away. It attacked me again with renewed vigor. From a world away, I could hear Cullen barking orders at me, at the others. I felt helpless and tired and the demon doubled its assault.

A small hand gripped the back of my neck and I felt the cold edge of Amethyne's dagger against my shoulder. They were preparing for the worst. I didn't have the strength to push the pain back, so my only option was to endure it. I focused all my thoughts on Cullen's strength, on how he survived Kinlock. "No. Whatever you are," I hissed through clenched teeth, "I am not your prey today."

_"You are not my prey, Dear One,"_ whispered the voice. _"You are my prize."_

The dagger vanished. Panic bubbled in my gut until I felt lips pressing against mine, familiar, urgent, heated. It took me aback and my mind scrambled to process the unexpected sensation.

_Cullen._

He whispered. "Stay with me."

I kissed him back, and the pain that bound me fell away. Pulling back, we pressed our foreheads together and took a moment to catch our breaths. 

"There you are," he said. "I thought I was losing you."

I breathed. "You can't be rid of me that easily Commander."

He laughed, and despite our audience, cradled me in his arms until my nerves had calmed and I could stand unassisted, and even then, it was as if he was afraid to let me go.

The old hate crept back in. That I haven't been able to say what should have been said. We both had the comfortable excuse of Corypheus that the word love was never mentioned, by either of us. Why was I so afraid to say I love you? Was I waiting for him to say it first? Our challenges were never going to get easier. He worked too much, too hard, trying to give his troops the order and principles that his last commander had not given him.

Cullen kept his derelict loft above his drafty office, though I offered him my garret, stating his reservations were to protect my reputation and keep rumor mongering at a minimum. But nights in Skyhold never thawed, and I was oft alone in my boat of a bed. My self-loathing and self-doubt magnified in the isolation of my chambers.

Was I alone at night because I couldn't say three tiny words? Or was it because of something far more significant. Someone more significant. Would the ghosts of our relationships past forever haunt our potential future?

My thoughts strayed to Knight Medica Stowe, the templar who taught me more about battlefield aid through poultices and emergency bone-setting than anyone else. He was often a part of my escort home, got along well with my siblings, my parents. In truth, my obsession with elfroot stemmed from my obsession with him. He transferred to Markham to be near his dying mother, leaving me with a stolen, tender memory, when he tucked my hair behind my ear and whispered, "You I will miss most."

"You mentioned Cole?" Cullen said, his voice tight with concern.

I knew what he meant. I shook my head, "No. Whatever it was, it spoke to me in that familiar, distant voice, but it was off. I think it thought to injure me so acutely, I wouldn't notice."

"Is it banished?"

"I doubt it. Did you see anything?"

"A shadow, nothing more, like it was trying to take shape...Learning what it's after might help us determine what we're up against."

"It thinks I'm its prize."

Cullen's expression was the same as when he played chess. He was identifying a threat, strategizing counter-maneuvers. "So it will likely continue to focus on you Inquisitor."

"It tried to possess me through pain, and that didn't work. It may change tactics," I warned. 

Cullen set his jaw. "Few demons show cunning. A type of pride demon maybe, or fear?"

I remembered Lily's laughter, how cruel it sounded, and shivered. "Solas explained once that a demon is simply a spirit whose purpose was perverted against its nature."

Cullen shot our prisoner a dark look. "Like say, fairness, exposed to the lingering cries for justice or vengeance from the inmates?"

Amethyne sheathed her dagger and folded her arms. "And another question. Could such a demon be behind all the antics here?"

I wished Solas was there to make sense of it all. "Anything's possible, but it would make sense. The stores sealed off to conceal or contain a weak link in the lyrium supply chain. Tranquil spontaneously reconnecting with the Fade could be the attempt to return what was harshly taken from them. Lily spared conflagration perhaps because of prayer. Despite the excessive results, the core idea at all of it is balance."

Cullen added, "Balance perverted. A demon of retribution then. That's a new one for me."

Amethyne grimaced, "New? Well. Shit."

"Don't let that trouble you Amethyne. Several attempts had been made throughout the ages to map and dissect the fade, with little result to show for the effort. There are possibly hundreds, thousands of spirits and demons that we have yet to see. A question though," Cullen said, quiet and concerned. "If retribution, why you as the prize?"

Why indeed? I had enemies in abundance, but none left who could ally with a demon of this nature. Did I trigger this somehow, walking physically in the fade? Did Imshael strike a bargain with someone? I filed those thoughts away and forced a smile to hide my turmoil as we pressed on through the corridors, dispatching the few abominations we encountered.

### Chapter Eleven

We stepped through an archway into another vision. _Warden Commander Amell stood at a cell, arms folded, a look of anger or disgust on her face. She was surrounded by worried, guilty faces. One of them spoke. "But Warden Commander-"_

_"There's no excuse for this, Captain," the warden commander said. "You have neither the purpose nor the authority to detain my charge. I have asked for her release. Why are you stalling?"_

_"My orders are-" He backed from the Mabari, the hound's ears pinned to its skull and teeth bared in a frightening snarl._

_"Am I not the Warden Commander of the Ferelden Order of the Grey?"_

_"Yes, Commander, but-"_

_"And have I not rent the blight from Ferelden's fields?"_

_"Yes, Commander, but-"_

_"And for that effort, was I not bestowed with the honorific title of Hero of Ferelden by his majesty, King Alistair?"_

_"Yes and it's to that-"_

_"Then explain. Captain. Why is it that I come to Aeonar on warden business and her presence here isn't immediately brought to my attention?"_

_"We didn't know, all right!" the captain shouted. "Flames! Call off your hound. She never said she was-"_

_The warden wheeled about and prodded his sternum with her finger. "Is it habit or policy or just sheer malicious cruelty that dictates you round up strangers you happen upon in this mire and imprison them without due process?"_

_"I ordered it," a man said with an authoritative voice. The vision brought him into view. He was an older man with thinning hair. "Knight Commander Mac Inoe, a pleasure."_

_"Pleasure is mine, Commander," Warden Commander Amell said, her voice calm but firm, "But before we mire ourselves in pleasantries, I want my charge released. Now."_

Cullen checked the cell when the vision dissipated. "Empty," he said. "The knight commander must have complied."

Amethyne whistled low. "That side of the Hero gives me the shivers. Hey, Cullen, does the Knight Commander of a place like this have a right to lock up strangers without due process?"

Cullen shook his head. "No, he can't. The prisoners here are sent by Circles or Crowns after trials. That he took it upon himself to imprison anyone is stepping outside his jurisdiction."

"Did he seem, I don't know, patronizing to you?" I asked of no one in particular.

Amethyne whispered, "The name is so familiar, and he said it like it should be the Hero's business."

I looked to Cullen who shrugged. "Not a templar I know, so not Kinlock related."

"It must be after then. From the blight or Vigil's Keep in Amaranthine?"

"Mac Inoes are from Gwaren, like the traitor Mac Tir," Amethyne said with a snap of her fingers. "The teyrnia’s troops, I swear they were commanded by a Mac Inoe. Cauthrien Mac Inoe. Anora insisted the commander’s prized sword 'Summer-something' be placed on her father's pyre."

"Could they be related?" Cullen asked, adding after with a hit of distaste, "worse, could the knight commander be Anora's contact?"

I looked at Lily. She rocked on her heels with her eyes downcast, though I knew she was listening to every word we discussed. I wondered how much of her crazy was fabricated. "Lily, I don't suppose you know where they took the occupant from this cell?"

She ignored me. It was a longshot question anyway. I turned to see a shadow dart from the archway ahead. I whistled a note to my companions and we made our approach. Lily laughed.

### Chapter Twelve

_"You dream of winter. Why winter, Inquisitor?" the whispering demon said._

_"Leave me be. My dreams are not your business."_

_"Why winter?" It repeated._ I felt an odd sensation, like fingers poking in my mind. _"Because of a fireplace? Because of a bed?" images of my bedchamber in Skyhold shifted around me and I felt peculiar, like a sailor on dry land._ I checked my anchor. It glowed with a rapid pulse. Turning to Cullen, I noticed his focus drift and the color drained from his face. "Cullen? Commander?"

The chanter spun around, the patterned scars adorning his face glowed in the dim light as his dark skin blended with shadows. His voice was distant. "The time for immortal elves is gone," he said. "They have passed into Enuva and the endless sleep. This fate of mortal men we must adopt as our own, spake Shartan to his people."

The voice whispered again, an attempt to keep me from slipping from its grip. _"I propose a fair deal. Their lives and a lifetime of winters for yours."_

_"How is that fair to spring and summer?"_ With a strong mental shove, I pushed back and pinched the bridge of my nose to stave off my headache, and realized Amethyne was curled in a ball on the stone slab floor, shivering.

Lily was gone.

Was I really the only one on the mortal side of the fade?

The chanter shook himself free and regarded me with clear eyes, sheathing his maul. "You take Amethyne. I'll get Cullen," I said. 

The chanter shook his head and made a reversing gesture. I frowned but allowed him to handle my commander and I squat down to bring Amethyne back.

"They're dead. They're all dead," she whispered over and over, tears streaming from her face.

I wondered what would work. What insight would I have in the mind of this girl. "Cole, are you here?" I asked. "I could use some advice."

"They're all dead," she said.

A familiar voice too far away to make out every word tickled my mind. _Anger. She needs anger._

_"Thanks, Cole."_ I shook Amethyne's shoulders. "Oy, Elf! I told you to change the sheets an hour ago. You lazy thing."

The shadow on her face shifted. "But they're all--I'm not a servant!"

"Like hell you're not! I bought you with good coin you lazy elf. I've got dead hounds more useful than you."

She took a deep breath and shouted, "I. Am. Not. Your. SLAVE!"

She sprang to her feet and bowled me over, pulling her dagger. I summoned my spirit blade in a fraction of a second and countered a killing blow. The dagger dropped and skittered across the floor, and her bright blue eyes locked onto mine. 

"Flames! Inquisitor, shit, I'm so, so sorry." She offered a hand up.

I breathed a little easier, and accepted her hand. "I'm sorry too. I felt disgusting, saying those horrible things to you."

She chased after her wayward blade. "Don't, you said exactly what needed to be said. It got the job done." She popped a healing elixir and her shaky hands stilled instantly.

I turned. Cullen's color had returned. Thevar had him repeating the Maker's Benediction. At the end of the recitation, Cullen looked at me with a half-smile. Whatever his nightmare, he had conquered it. "Well, that was unexpected," I said, cursing my anchor. The glow was intense. "Does anyone know how that got triggered or where Lily went?"

Amethyne pointed at the alcove behind us. "We walked through there. That's all I remember before..."

Cullen shook Thevar's hand. "Thank you, Chanter, for finding me. Inquisitor, this demon is clever, and it's adjusting its tactics."

"We'll stay vigilant," I said, hoping I sounded more confident than I felt. The visions, the attacks, the whispers...my hand was aflame with tension and the anchor was pulling energy from me.

Amethyne tugged at the door to the next chamber. "Locked," she said.

Cullen groaned. "And that is lyrium treated ancestral heartwood. We're not breaking through that. The sidewall trick from before won't work here either."

Amethyne turned to Thevar, batting her eyes, hand out. "Chanter? You promised if it was an emergency I could have my lockpicks back? This qualifies, doesn't it? Pretty please?"

Thevar folded his arms and tapped his foot against the stone floor. His eyes cast suspicion on her motives.

"Inquisitor, help me out yeah? Don't we need to get passed that door?" Amethyne appealed. "I promise to give them back after we're done here."

"You can pick the lock?" I asked.

"With my eyes closed and one hand tied behind my back if I'm pressed to." Amethyne made a show of inspecting her fingernails. 

"And why does Thevar have your picks?"

She pinked. "It's...kind of a long story I guess. One of the Hero's friends, an ex-crow, taught me a lot of things that Uncle Fergus didn't want me to know. I got caught picking the lock on the queen's jewelry box. Thevar has my lockpicks as part of my penance."

I nodded at Thevar, who remanded the picks to the girl. She responded with a giddy squeal and set to work. Within seconds, the tumblers clicked into place and she took a bow.

"Best hold on to those for the time being," I said. "They may come in useful again."

### Chapter Thirteen

We took defensive positions and Thevar opened the heavy door at my signal. Inside the next chamber, a rift large enough for a person to pass through stood inactive though unmolested in the corner. Beside it, looking surprisingly nonplussed, a templar bearing a commander's insignia stood at a desk.

His face contorted in the sinister light of the rift. "Ah, we have guests. Templar, take this apostate into custody."

I wheeled. A possessed corpse rose from the floor. Cullen raised his shield and stepped in front of me. His struck the corpse swift and clean, separating it from its head and it collapsed to the floor.

"That one was dead for a while," came Amethyne's morbid observation. "There isn't enough blood to be a fresh corpse."

The knight commander tilted his head. "How very amusing."

The rift sprang to life, unraveling its seams. Cracks of green light, like veins of lyrium in stone, spiderwebbed through the empty space of the room. The first demons through were terrors. Twisting about on spindly legs, they screeched our names with chilly clarity, sounds that offended and haunted long after they were dispatched.

A flood of rage demons came next, but they too fell to our blades while the Knight Commander looked on, his face a wash of fascination. It would have been disconcerting, but I was eager to slam the rift shut, knowing it would relieve the pain. I felt the anchor tug, and raised my hand, pouring the weight of my willpower into the action. 

The rift hissed closed and white sparks showered at the edges of my vision. I panted in attempt to catch my breath. Above the rush in my ears, I heard Cullen challenge the commander. "What are you, demon?" he barked.

"The impertinence. I am no demon," he said, too simplistic a reply. "I am Knight Commander Mac Inoe. I am in charge of this prison. You Ser, your witch, and her familiars, you are all trespassing. And you are all under arrest."

"By who's authority?" I asked.

It did not seem to be a question for which he was prepared. There was a small delay before he answered. "What do you mean, by who's authority? Are you going to lie that you're a warden too?"

"I answer to Andraste, Commander." I said, choosing my words carefully. "I am her Herald here in Thedas and a loyal knight enchanter of the templar brotherhood. You however, do not serve the Divine, not anymore. So who do you serve? Queen Anora, perhaps?"

Cullen's soft growl licked at my hearing. "Careful, Inquisitor," he said. "He's unstable."

Mac Inoe smiled. "Interesting that the Inquisitor would accuse a knight commander of allying with the Fereldan crown. Is that not what you and your ex-templar have done?"

I narrowed my eyes. "We are the audit for balance between nations, bowing to no king, requiring no king to bow to us."

"You require _all_ kings to bow to you." He slammed his fist into his desk, and I heard Amethyne jump next to me. "Power has corrupted even you, Inquisitor. Blackmailing some, capitulating to others, setting murderers free--"

"I err on the side of salvation." I argued. "As Andraste would have us forgive. I won't condemn anyone for working past their sins--"

"--but some sins are more forgivable than others." His dark eyes flicked to Amethyne. "Wouldn't you agree with that statement, my Lady Cousland."

Amethyne flinched. I watched the color drain from her pale skin. I gathered what magic I could and tossed it at him. "Let her go Mac Inoe."

His eyes filled with blue mist and he held out his hand. The magic I had summoned vanished into the pale fog. A heavy gravity coated my mind. "I do not have control over your companion, Inquisitor. The demons she fights are of her own making. As. Are. Yours."

In an instant, my world changed. Aeonar's chamber fell away and the familiar marbled entry of the Rose Tower took its place. _"Lady Trevelyan," a voice over my shoulder said._

_I turned in a daze. "First Enchanter?"_

_He staggered towards me, clutching a seeping wound in his gut. "Go with them," he said. "Your title, it might protect them."_

_"You're bleeding," I heard myself say, shocked._

_"Now, child, don't worry about me. This I can manage. Go with them."_

_"But First Enchanter, my title won't matter outside of Ostwick."_

_"It is a small chance, but the route ahead is long and arduous. Any chance to make it comfortable for those who follow it, we have to take it, don't we?"_

_"But--"_

_"The templars respect you, the mages look up to you, You'll get them to Ferelden."_

_"There is a murderer among them. Senior Enchanter--"_

_"Stop arguing, child, and do what must be done. What no other is willing to do."_

_I turned to follow the templar at my elbow when a different, familiar voice invaded my mind. "Inquisitor, this isn't real. This is the fade."_

_"I know," I whispered. "That's not how this conversation went."_

_"Inquisitor, she doesn't have a lot of time left. She needs your help."_

Cole was gone again, but he had intruded enough to shake the illusion from around me. While the surrounding demons shed their human guises, I searched for the seam of the veil, or the one false object in the lobby. The weak link to sever the connection.

A faint glow attracted my attention. In the corner hung a portrait of my father, wearing the impossible insignia of the Teyrn of Ostwick. I bolted to the portrait and dove headfirst through the canvas.

I snapped to. Cullen's blade was raised at my throat. Before I could panic, he winked. "Duck," he warned.

I dropped to my knees and he lunged. The parting air above my head stirred the fine wisps of my hair. It was real. I was real. Cullen was real. The Fade was gone.

I looked up as Cullen drew his blade back into position. It dripped with blood. Something thumped to the ground behind me and I spun to look. The knight commander lay motionless like a forgotten flour sack.

"What happened?" I asked, rising on unsteady legs.

Cullen was urgent and harried. "I'll explain everything, but we've got to move. Now."

I knew better than to protest. "Where's Amethyne? Thevar" I asked as we pressed on through the next door.

"They chased after Lily," Cullen said. "But we can't worry about them right now."

Cole's voice from the fadescape, had Cullen somehow heard it?

We blasted through the remaining chambers, killing demons like reavers on blood frenzy. Then we were at the stairs to the last floor. Cullen didn't hesitate, charging two steps at a time up the flagstones and through the door at the top landing.

"Andraste preserve us." I heard Cullen swear.

I caught up and was consumed with horror.

### Chapter Fourteen

Before us, in the otherwise empty observation deck, stood the Felengar Sheathe. Suspended inside was the Hero of Ferelden, her position contorted to fit the space. "Maker's teeth."

Cullen was at her side without hesitation, falling to his knees. His sword and shield skittered across the marble floor. The Hero opened her eyes at the sound. "Cullen?" she whispered. "Cullen! Thank the Maker--"

"I'm so, so sorry." Tears leaked from the corners of Cullen's eyes. I had never seen him at such a loss. "I failed you," he said.

"No, Cullen, look at me." She flashed a weary smile. "You have never failed me. Not then. Not now. But listen. The lock on this is a templar ward. Only you can get me free--"

"That's just it. I can't" Cullen placed a palm against the cage. "I no longer take lyrium. I haven't for months."

She was slow in responding. "You stopped taking lyrium?"

"After Kirkwall--I couldn't be a part of that any longer."

She shook her head, a movement restricted by the cage. "You don't need lyrium, Cullen. That is a chantry lie."

"What are you saying?" I asked, trying to make sense of the statement.

She wheezed and twisted. It seemed an involuntary movement. "Templars don't need lyrium to use their abilities. It was a chantry exploitation, a means of control, a way to keep an army of swords on a short, dependent leash."

Cullen argued. "That was a rumor, but only--"

"Come on, Cullen," the Hero pleaded. "You know Alistair? He never took his vigil, his final vows. And he helped me bring down the archdemon using the full scope of his very templar abilities. You don't need lyrium, Cullen."

"I can't," he whispered. "Maker. Inquisitor, there has to be something you can do?"

I checked my anchor and sifted through possibilities. "I might could open a small rift inside her cage--"

"Do it."

"No wait, Cullen. It could relieve some of the pressure. But it's risky, and it could just end up killing her, or worse, sending her physically into the fade with no means of getting out. I'm already responsible for leaving two people behind in the fade. Please don't make me responsible for leaving a third."

"Any chance for survival is better than this Inquisitor!" He raged like a summoned wildfire. "This cage will collapse on her. It will kill her. And I can't unlock the ward."

"Warden Commander." I stepped closer, fearing that I would have to be the one to do what needed to be done. Again. My lot in life since the mage rebellion. "The anchor was never designed to be subtle. Ripping open the fade intentionally is no small feat and I cannot predict what that will bodily do to you."

"I understand," she said. "Don't do it."

"But--" Cullen stammered. "Why? If there's a chance--"

"That's just it Cullen." She sucked in breath, and shifted. "If there's even the slightest chance of sending me physically into the fade, it's a bad idea. The effect of a tainted creature like me could be disastrous." 

"So, in lieu of that," I said, preparing myself for Cullen's reaction. "Is there anything we can do to ease your pain?"

Cullen stared at me, angry. "You're giving up?"

"Cullen, I can't use magic on that ward!" I shouted back, wishing for the rational commander I knew. "If I do, it will explode and kill us all. If you take an ax to it, it will explode and kill us all. There is literally nothing I can do that won't cause either her death or ours."

"Cullen," the warden said. Her voice suddenly clear but small. "Cullen, I'm so very tired. I cannot hold this cage open much longer. Please, please at least try."

He nodded and forced a breath. I prepared myself to feel the draw and dampening of the templar abilities but nothing happened. Cullen's tone broke my heart. "Andraste forgive me, I can't. I can't."

I heard the warden sigh. "It's okay, Cullen. Look at me. Look at me. It's okay."

Behind me, Amethyne screamed, and charged through to the sheathe. I scooped her aside as she drew close. "Stop, Amethyne, it's a templar ward. You break that seal, we all explode."

"Inquisitor we can't leave her like that. She saved my life!" She cried. "She saved us all!"

"I'm all right, Amethyne," the warden said, though pain and death rattled in her words. "Truly. I'm surrounded by people I care about. All other wardens will cross into darkness alone. I cannot ask for better than this."

Thevar tapped my shoulder. He had Lily by the hair. She twisted and struggled against him. "That which they sought did not exist, for the Maker's enemy in its cruel wisdom left not a shred behind."

"Wha-?"

Amethyne seethed. "He means the lyrium locker. The sanctimonious bitch locked herself in and destroyed it all."

Lily laughed. "All gone. No more fade walks for mages. No more Harrowings. They all get the brand!"

Cullen leapt to his feet and ran to the desk and cabinets at the far end of the observation chamber. He rifled through papers and drawers at an alarming speed. "What are you doing?" I asked, fearing his answer.

"Knight Commander Greagoir used to keep a full emergency filter at the edge of the Harrowing platform, in case a Harrowing went horribly wrong. Based on the ego of Mac Inoe out there, I'd venture he did the same."

"And what, you're planning on using it?" I couldn't believe my ears. "After all you went through to break free of it?"

He wheeled and I flinched, feeling his anger punch through the cold space. "You tell me what choice I have, Inquisitor. I won't sit by and watch her die. And I can't unlock that ward without a dose of lyrium."

"Cullen," the warden's whisper cracked.

He pushed everything off of the desk and threw the chair across the room. "Flames!" he swore. 

"You sure, Warden Commander. You're sure he doesn't need the lyrium?" I pressed.

"I swear on Andraste's tears Alistair never needed lyrium, not once. And he could quell a blood mage and negate darkspawn magic without breaking a sweat." She looked at me with hopeful eyes. "But Cullen won't ever be able to do it angry. He needs to breathe. To focus."

"Thevar, give me Lily's hair. Amethyne and I will watch her. Go get Cullen and get him to pray." I ordered.

Thevar nodded and handed control of our prisoner over to me. Amethyne drew a dagger and pressed it against Lily's throat. "Give me an excuse, you sanctimonious bitch. If the Hero dies, I'm going to peel the skin from your body and feed you to her Mabari."

Cullen shrugged off Thevar. "Back off Chanter or help me look," he barked.

The warden's eyes focused on something distant. Her shoulders sagged against her suspension. I could tell she was fading fast. "Cullen," she said. "Please, I don't want my last moments with you to be this wrong."

"Last moments?" He rushed back to the cage. "No, no, no. Stay with me. There's lyrium here, I know it. It won't take me anytime at all to set up the filter."

"Cullen, remember the day I came to Kinlock?" she said, her voice crossing the void. "The rain made everything slick and cold. Kester smuggled me across the water in the dead of night. Remember?"

Cullen wept, freely, without concern for his composure. "I remember," he said. "I processed your phylactery."

"For years I followed you around. They called me your shadow. I called you my light. Remember? I'm so very sorry."

"Sorry, for what?"

"Our friendship. The rumors...the...tort...I see now how that was such a burden...I'm sorry I brought you pain. It's the only regret I have, the only one I carry with me in my death."

"No, no. You were never a burden. You are the only reason I survived the blight, Uldred, even Kirkwall. I owe you more than my life--"

She coughed. "I'm glad you're here with me. You always made me feel safe. I'm not afraid, Cullen."

"No, no, Maker, no. Don't make me responsible for your death. I've never known a stronger mage. You can hold on. We'll send Amethyne for Seeker Corthwaite..."

"I'm so very tired." Her breathing was labored. "My lungs are on fire. It's time. Cullen. You need to let me go."

Amethyne screamed, "No! Stop it!"

The warden's eyes adjusted, flicking up to her elvhen friend. "Amethyne, I have a letter for Alistair in my satchel. Would you see he gets it?"

I looked to Amethyne. She mouthed words that never sounded. "We'll see it delivered," I said, choking on the lump in my throat.

"Good. That's good." She heaved a breath. "Thevar? I'd be honored."

Thevar nudged Cullen and sank to a knee with folded hands. "Though the night has fallen," he started, "though the valley is beset with dangers that lurk like wolves in shadow,"

Cullen stuttered. "I, ah, The Maker...The Maker is my shield. When that my soul is rent, when that the veil is drawn for me..."

"I shall find--" Thevar prompted.

"I can't," Cullen whispered. "I don't have the strength to let you go."

"Cullen, look at me," she whispered. "It's okay. The taint...I was living on borrowed time. I can join the Maker with a clean conscience now. Cullen, no don't look away. _Look at me._ I'm all right. It's okay."

"No," he said, his voice steady. "No, I will not fail you again."

"Cullen?"

Then I heard the words I never thought I'd hear, not in a million ages over a million lifetimes. "Cole," he said with conviction. "Cole I know you are watching. I give you permission. I'm asking for your help."

The warden seized, blood forming at the corners of her eyes and mouth. Amethyne cried out again. but for a lifetime in a moment, Cullen was calm and confident.

I felt only a ghost of it at first, the tug of the fade pulling mana from my reserves. And then, a blue mist steamed from Cullen's eyes and his voice doubled. "Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just. Blessed are those who stand before the corrupt and the wicked and do not falter, blessed are the righteous, the lights in the shadow. In their blood the Maker's will is written."

A loud pop and the cage disintegrated, renting us all to the floor in a blinding white light. Before I passed out, I caught sight of the warden in Cullen's arms. "My light," she said, touching his chin.

"My shadow," he replied, clutching her close.

In my dreamless night, I heard the insipid demon speak, _Our business is not yet concluded. We shall meet again._

### Chapter Fifteen

We found Lily at the edge of the observation deck. Cullen released the warden when she asked to speak to her. I watched Warden Commander Amell limp to the unstable woman before turning to Cullen. "Are you all right?" I asked.

He cast me a guilty look. "I think so. What you must think of me, of us, after all that..."

I knew what he meant. I decided not to tease him. We were all too raw to use emotion as the base of a joke. Besides, I finally understood. I knew there was a piece of his heart I could never claim, and for a long time, it bothered me. I was afraid that I could lose him to that missing piece. But seeing him reconcile to a woman he cared for and respected deeply gave me comfort I hadn't expected, and I loved him all the more for that.

He had been talking. He looked at me with expectant eyes. "I hope someday you can forgive me for all of this."

In a role reversal, I kissed him, hard and hungry, until he recovered from being startled and kissed me back. When we broke from our embrace, he was flushed and I breathless. "I love you Cullen," I said with surety. "I love you with every fiber of my being. I love you more than the breath that sustains me. You don't have--"

He kissed me mid-sentence. "I love you, too."

My heart skipped. "I don't want us to hide anymore Cullen. I'm not afraid of rumors. We have a home together. There is no reason under the Maker's twilight sky that we should be lonely at night."

A subtle crimson kissed his cheeks. He cleared his throat. "About that. I have a confession to make. But not here."

_Yes, not here, where the stench of decaying abominations and trace sulfur coated everything that was once decent._ "Agreed. But. Upon our return to Skyhold--" I said.

"We will talk," he said. "And work everything out. I give you my word."

We kissed again. "I'm sorry to interrupt," the warden commander said as our lips parted.

"We were finished, for the moment.” I laced my fingers in his.

She smiled, though it was short-lived. "Lily had things to say. Some of it I suppose I deserved. She's hurting, though, and I hoped you could speak with her, Inquisitor?"

"I don't think she'll want to talk to me, Warden Commander. She said some vile things..."

"She's aware. But I knew her once, long ago. The woman that was will not let this one ruin her soul."

I nodded and squeezed Cullen's hand before I crossed the long empty space. The wind picked up, chilly and wet, and sang a mournful tune at the edge of the balcony. Before i could say anything, Lily stammered, "Inquisitor, sorry is so inadequate for my behavior. It was the oddest sensation, feeling trapped in one's own skin."

"What happened to you, here, Lily?"

She sighed and turned away, a shadow upon her cheek. "Somewhere out there is a circle tower. Once upon a time it was home. I had a purpose. I was happy. I was a few months into my vows when I was assigned my first official service for the chantry. It was then I was approached by a mage named Jowan. He was sweet and awkward, and persistent. We talked often, long, pleasant conversations about places we wanted to see, about the public nature of dormitory life, other worldly things and ideals that an acolyte had no business dabbling in. Before long, we met outside the chantry in secret, shadowy hallways, storage cellars...When we kissed...I don't know. I feel silly now, but back then, it changed my calling. One secret, stolen kiss turned into several, turned into more..."

I remembered everything about the first night Cullen pinned me to his desk. That night was filled only with need and desire, and an insatiable thirst. "I understand. You feel so alive."

"Alive and awake, and my thoughts turned from the Maker's work to carnal things. Looking back, it's possible Jowan felt the same, turning to blood magic because he felt powerless to break us free. I don't know. They were wonderful days. They must have been, because his betrayal still hurts so much."

"You were told, about what he did, after?" I tried to keep the question gentle.

"If they did, it didn't really sink in. My mind has not been my own, Inquisitor. Not since they placed me in my cell. I remember feeling heavy, lethargic. I remember being terrified at the whispering voices. Then all of a sudden, the whispering stopped. Everything after that is so very unclear..."

"Spirits become demons when their purpose becomes corrupted against their nature," I said, leaning against a pillar. "In clearing the tower, we faced something, I think it may have been a spirit of balance at one time, and when exposed to its corrupting influence, it changed to a demon of retribution. Does any of that sound familiar?"

Her brow furrowed. "Knight Commander Mac Inoe told me my imprisonment was unfair, and that if it were left up to him, he'd release me. He spoke of his sister, how she served the queen loyally, how they gave her murderer the title of Hero. Then I learned who she was, and that knowledge split me." Her eyes sparkled like diamonds, adularescence streaming over her cheeks. "Inquisitor, we wanted fate to be fair again, the Knight Commander and I. And then Mac Inoe received dispensation from the throne...Oh Maker, what am I responsible for? All these lives lost."

"You were influenced by a powerful demon, Lily."

She shook her head. "No. I think perhaps the demon was influenced by my hatred, by my need for justice. We lured Warden Commander Amell here, Inquisitor. Queen Anora gave us the means to do it. She pointed us to a friend, a mage with knowledge of ancient Dalish magics. An easy target to arrest in the Chantry's name..."

"And Knight Commander Mac Inoe destroyed all the evidence. It's your word now against the queen's."

"It matters little I suppose." She was crestfallen. Silence filled the space between us. In the distance, a loon called across the moors, a mournful cry filled with loss and regret, a lonely contrast to the hopeful pink light of dawn cracking the eastern horizon. "Tell me Inquisitor, is what Warden Commander Amell said true? Did Jowan really poison the arl?"

"He did. He was apprehended by a templar on the outskirts of the Hinterlands, but Loghain offered Jowan freedom, imprisoning the templar instead, in exchange for a small favor in Redcliffe."

"Ironic, then, that I should be here, another puppet in the schemes of a Mac Tir. Sometimes blindness is a blessing as much as it is a curse." She wiped her tears away. "I know I don't have any right to ask, Inquisitor, but can I have a moment? The tower is quiet and the sun is rising. I haven't seen a sunrise in an age of shadows."

I debated. I glanced at Cullen. He and the warden spoke together, close and quiet. He looked weary, but content. He found something few people could in five hundred lifetimes. He had closure, and with that, the ability to forgive himself.

The chantry taught that Andraste pointed to the sunrise as the promise of the Maker's salvation. It seemed a small kindness for the woman Lily once was, for the woman she might have been. But her request wasn't about forgiveness or kindness, or even about the sunrise. Lily had a plan for retribution, for balance. 

My heart tightened. I tripped over my words. "Very well. One more sunrise."

I turned. She called softly over my shoulder, "Inquisitor, for what it's worth, I am sorry."

I closed my eyes. "Then be at peace."

Lily slipped from the balcony without a sound. We found her body battered and broken over a bed of moss and peat. Warden Commander Amell wept at Lily's side while Cullen stood silent nearby, keeping a templar's vigilance over his charge.

### Chapter Sixteen

When most of the templars operational again, we lit the pyres of those who did not survive the trials. The warden commander and Amethyne prepared Lily's body for the flame, wrapping her in a chantry ceremonial shroud intertwined with fresh Valley Lilies from the marsh.

There was little need for the Inquisition or her forces to linger after that. And except that I had questions that needed answers, I was content with the prospect of returning home. The demon that haunted my steps lost strength with each Elvhen artifact we activated. The fade receded from the tower. The veil was still thin, but with the Dalish wards in place, the area was stabilized and the demon disappeared.. With time, with monitoring, the dangers of Aeonar could disappear into the pages of dusty history books.

I did not like that I had not destroyed the demon. I was uneasy with the idea of it lingering in the fade, perhaps corrupting other spirits. Cole simply said it was gone, and I didn't press him. He was busy with the little hurts of the survivors, so I left him to his work.

Amethyne cried and hugged me when we said goodbye. "It's time Thevar and I were on the road," she said. "My uncle will be worried sick. You should come with us, Inquisitor. Our teyrnia puts on a decent homecoming celebration."

"Rain check? I want a few nights in my own bed first." I replied. "I promise to visit soon as my schedule permits. Stay safe, you two. Maker speed."

"Her light shines brightest in the darkest of places," the chanter said, “a sign to Her legion that they shall be reunited at the Maker’s side.”

"Shartan?" I asked at the unfamiliar stanza.

Amethyne whispered, "Canticle of Maferath."

I sucked in a breath of mocked shock. "Scandalous."

It was a long road back to Skyhold. The snows of the unforgiving Frostbacks brought me comfort. When the wind howled at my back and chilled me to the bone, I knew I was close to home.

The light in the watchtower announced that the sentries saw my caravan approach as twilight crested the ridge. When my Forder was properly stabled, I stole a small loaf of bread from the kitchen and snuck into my chambers to avoid fanfare. Whatever business awaited me in the Hall of Banners could wait another night.

I embraced the solace of my garret penthouse. Cullen was perhaps a half day behind with the remainder of his troops. I hoped it would be the last night I would ever spend alone.

Unable to sleep, I burned candles to their base while working on the reports I promised for Leliana and Josephine. When sunlight cracked the eastern ridge, I popped the stress from my neck and shoulders, and watched the sunrise from my balcony, thinking of Lily.

In the end, she left this world on her own terms. I didn't have the heart to keep her from it. A trial would have been overly cruel for a woman mightily abused by those she sought to help, and still would not provide the closure anyone wanted.

A familiar rap sounded at my door. "It's open Leliana!" I tossed over my shoulder. I wasn't ready to leave the light of dawn.

I didn't hear her cross my chamber, but I never could. "Inquisitor, Harding briefed me...I want to thank you."

Pink laced the rims of her violet eyes, evidence of a recent cry. It was not going to be a light conversation. "For what?"

"For saving the life of my closest confident and friend," she clarified, turning.

I shook my head. "T'was not I who did the saving, Leliana."

"Still, because of you and that stubborn determination of yours, I am able to speak to my friend today, instead of morn her loss." She leaned against the railing. "I would not have been able to forgive myself. I was the reason she was there, Inquisitor. Based on my intelligence--"

"Many things conspired to send the Warden Commander there. From what I understand, the Mac Tir's are quite adept at making pawns of even the most noble of souls."

She didn't argue. Turning to rest her elbows on the rail, she stared at me hard, her eyes cold and piercing. "I can tell you the story of a pawn. Once upon a time there was a young Fereldan orphan making her way through the pitfalls of the Orleasian Game. Her mentor betrayed her and she lost her way."

It was a story I could tell she wasn't anxious to give details on, and though I would have liked to hear the whole story, I didn't probe. I was tired, and I pushed the story to its conclusion. "Like a thousand others, right? The Hero saved you. She saved everyone."

It coaxed a wicked half-grin to the corner of her mouth. "Is that a note of jealousy I detect?"

"Perhaps, a little. She has so few enemies, and most of them are darkspawn-"

Leliana snorted, "Oh, she has enemies. Not everyone in Orzammar liked the outcome of our meddling. The Antivan Crows have a contract on her head, one they refuse to work, but it still exists. Some of the nobles out of Amaranthine really don't care for their liege-lord and they are always at odds."

"Few of those enemies are entire countries, however," I whispered against the wind and tasted snow. "There's a threat growing in the darkness beyond these mountains Leliana. The Hero at least knows who her enemies are. I have too many to judge--"

"Is that all you are envious of? An under abundance of enemies?" She brushed a snowflake from her eyelashes and tilted her head with an omniscient look. "Or is it perhaps her history with a certain ex-templar?"

"Perhaps that too. I don't know. It just..." It was hard to pinpoint the right words. "I have yet to meet someone who didn't speak of her with admiration, but Cullen's words are particularly heart-wrenching. She such a part of who he is--"

She gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze. "But you are such a part of who he aspires to be, can you not see that?"

"She didn’t have to overcome a first impression like mine though, did she? I thought I was beyond this but…Can I ask you something, about the night you imprisoned me? After the explosion, when I crawled out of the Fade?" I fought the lump in my throat. It was not going to be an easy answer to hear, no matter what she said. "What was your true, initial reaction towards me?"

She looked away, turning towards the rising sun and sighed. "I wish I could tell you all I wanted was to hear what happened. I was not in a good place. I wanted revenge. Everyone wanted revenge."

My tongue pierced my words like the jagged peaks of the Frostbacks to wind. "And Cullen?"

"Are you sure you want to know?"

"That bad?" My hand trembled. What was I thinking?

"When Solas diagnosed you as a mage, Cassandra was uncontrollable. Cullen stood between you and Cassandra, fully prepared to cross swords with a seeker, something I know goes against his instincts. But Cullen spoke of duty and honor and refused to leave your side until well after Josephine told him Cassandra had calmed."

It surprised me. "He protected me?"

"He did, for a long time while Solas tried to heal you enough to pull you from unconsciousness. Then of course the runners started and he had to see to his troops, to try to build some sort of defense. He stationed only people he felt he could trust to guard us from you and guard you from us. Did you never wonder why Cassandra and Cullen said very little to each other after the first attempt to close the breach?"

"No, but..." Suddenly, my first candid conversation with Cassandra made a great deal more sense. Her attempt at the apology, admitting she misjudged me..."Oh I'm an idiot."

"You are not. I haven't always agreed with your decisions, but I never doubted that you had the welfare of others in mind when you made them," Leliana said, with firm perspective. "Look, you command both the respect and the fear of nations because you are willing to act when they are content to poke at the fire to see why it burns. A woman with that kind of power in her soul will always have the push and pull of others equally powerful. The Hero of Ferelden? She only truly ever has to worry about darkspawn. Would you wish your fate upon her?"

It was a loaded question. I surrendered with a dry chuckle. "No. I'd lay my life down before I willed this on anyone else."

She smiled and hugged me, the warmest, friendlies hug of our entire association with each other. "I hope I never have to, but when you are gone, I will say that you were a valued friend."

A soft clearing of a throat sounded behind us. We turned. My penthouse bedroom had become a royal receiving salon. Josephine stood next to the Theirins, Alistair and Anora both. "Alistair!" Leliana blurted out. "Anora! We weren't expecting a royal visit."

Alistair stepped eagerly forward with a ready handshake. "How is my favorite temptress?"

"Lethal as ever," she replied, ignoring his hand and hugging him tight. "But I know you're not here to see me, so I will leave you in the Inquisitor's capable hands."

I thought I saw Leliana slip something into the pouch on Alistair's belt. It was a subtle movement, but enough to make me wonder if Leliana did indeed not have prior knowledge of the king's arrival.

Josephine introduced us all as Leliana disappeared down the stairs. "I apologize for this intrusion in your chambers, Inquisitor," Josephine said. "But their majesties were most insistent."

"We hadn't planned on making this stop," Anora explained, rather stiffly I thought. "So we wanted to keep this visit...informal."

I forced my disposition from brooding to happy. "Well, my bedroom is as informal a place as any. Please make yourself comfortable." I motioned to the sofa.

Anora thanked me, taking a seat in front of the fire. "The cold I was prepared for. The thin air I was not."

Alistair shrugged. "At least the cold is refreshing and it doesn't smell like darkspawn and sulfur. I'll take the road to Skyhold over the Deep Roads any day."

Anora blinked. "Eloquently put, as always, my husband king. Ambassador, might I trouble you for some water?"

"Maker's breath, look at the view!" Alistair pushed passed me and out on to my southern balcony. I exchanged a look with Josephine before bowing out to follow him. My ambassador would see to the queen's needs.

An icy blast of wind bit at my nose and cheeks as I drew up at the king's side. "Breathtaking, isn't it?" I asked.

"Quite." His exuberance waned and his eyes drifted. "Do you remember what Haven looked like, before the Breach?"

"I couldn't for a long time," I replied. "But my memories are returning."

"I saw it before even the Chantry had their clutches in it. Apart from the creepy dragon cultists, it was a serene sort of place. And the Temple of Sacred Ashes defied description." His voice went small. "It still gives me chills, that beauty is so very fragile in this world."

I thought of Lily, and of the demon's threat. I thought of the cruelty of the sheathe and the letter that gave Anora's consent to use it. I wondered if Alistair's life was in danger, from his own wife. "There's something I think you should know, but I hesitate-"

Anger furnaced from his being, his stance changed, his expression hardened, his grip on the railing tightened. "I want you to tell me everything."

His command took me aback. "We uncovered a plot to imprison the Hero of Ferelden. Whether it was a demon's design first or whether it was the machinations of Knight Commander Mac Inoe--"

"Mac Inoe? But that’s Gwaren—Cauthrien." The name tripped through his teeth like a curse. He shot a look of pure hatred at his wife. "That's quite the coincidence, isn't it?"

I swallowed my comment. It wouldn't have helped the situation. "Do you know what a Felengar Sheathe is?"

All the color drained from his face. "I wish I didn't."

His intensity blazed like the sun. He had the presence of a wall of stoic templars. A flash of unexpected memory pierced my thoughts, of my arrival at the Conclave. It was the first time I ever truly felt the 'us versus them' vibe. I forced a breath to steady my nerves, reaching deep for the smallest shred of stored courage. "A prisoner named Lily helped trap the warden commander. We found her locked in the sheathe on the observation deck."

An aura of troubling darkness radiated from the king and it pushed me back a step. Alistair let go of the railing and fingered the sword at his side. "That conniving, double-crossing, bitch!"

"For what it's worth, Lily--"

"I'm speaking of my wife, Inquisitor."

"Alistair--"

"Don't stand there and take her side." Blue mist started to form in the corners of his eyes.

I snapped my mouth shut, the old heaviness of being locked in the circle bearing down on my shoulders. "I did not mean to offend, your majesty, but for the record I am not defending her. You did bid me to tell you everything."

He popped his neck and his shoulders visually relaxed. The mist dissipated. "My apologies, Inquisitor, sometimes I--"

"Alistair?" A voice channeled from the staircase of my room and out onto my balcony.

For the second time that morning, I was grateful that I had not slept the night before, and my bed was made. My chamber was resembling a parade ground.

Alistair recognized the voice, he must have, for he charged into the room without hesitation. I followed a few paces behind, stunned at the bold display of tenderness between king and warden. I flicked my gaze to the queen. The only indication that Anora might have felt guilt or even anger was the slight twitch in her cheek. 

"Alistair," the warden commander said, "the scouts told me you were here...what are you doing here? Anora, you're quite pale. Are you well?"

I could find no malice in the warden's words, though the king stiffened. Anora, true to her reputation, smiled. "The mountain air is surprisingly disagreeable."

"There was a similar sensation that mages used to get after a long fade walk. The only cure for it I'm afraid is a shot of strong Ferelden whiskey and a nap in a lightless room."

"Thank you, that is an excellent suggestion." The queen's blue eyes iced over, but she didn't make a scene. Rising from the sofa, she turned to Josephine. "I wonder if I might rely upon your goodness once more, Lady Ambassador, and have you escort me to my room. I fear I have already lost my bearings in these mountains of towers. And I shouldn't wish to trouble the honor-guard."

"Of course, your majesty. Anything I can do to make your stay with us more comfortable." Josephine swept her arm in a bow.

Anora paused next to Alistair as she followed her escort, her eyes flicked over to the warden for a fleeting, furtive moment. "We are most pleased that you are alive and well, Commander of the Grey. We hope you will be able to resume your duties at Vigil's Keep soon. Ferelden is bereft of all color without your presence."

The warden smiled, warm but restrained. "Thank you Majesty. I promise to return once my warden business is concluded in the Frostbacks."

"We will speak later, Husband mine?" It was as timid a question as I have ever heard uttered from a woman who was rarely out of her element.

Alistair's voice resembled the low growl of a poked Mabari. "Oh, we'll talk, _wife._ "

With a simple nod, the queen walked, back straight, as if there was not a care in the world that could dethrone her.

### Chapter Seventeen

The heat from Alistair's glare warmed the room better than the fire in my hearth. The warden seemed not to notice, however. "Alistair, do you remember Cullen?"

Alistair's voice softened with emotion and history. "Last we met was at Kinlock. No. I guess it was Kirkwall, wasn't it?"

Cullen paled, and sniffed. "Yes. Does it not seem strange to you sometimes, that we survived when there was no earthly reason that we should have?

Alistair agreed. "That's an understatement. The Inquisitor says you are responsible for our Hero's life?"

A kiss of crimson flushed Cullen's cheek. He shifted in his stance. "Actually, I guess it was you who saved her, your majesty. I abandoned my lyrium regimen when I left the order...She insisted you still had the abilities."

"Yes, yes. That was the dirty little secret that kept the grand cleric from handing me over to Duncan, forcing him to conscript me. She didn't want it known that a templar could be a templar without the stuff."

"Still, it wasn't easy." Cullen rubbed his neck, his look beyond the fire and into the past. "It took more out of me than I thought possible."

Alistair laughed. "You just need more practice."

Cullen laughed too, dry and short. "I suppose I do."

"Before I forget," I said, walking to my desk. The file I had taken from Aeonar deserved to go back to the warden commander. I collected it and held it out to her. "This should go with you I think. I promise I didn't read it. Well, not much of it anyway."

Her eyes brightened as she accepted the documents. "Thank you Inquisitor."

"There's a fire," Cullen suggested, I thought rather hopefully.

She shook her head. "No Cullen, I won't destroy our story. There is nothing contained within that either of us should be ashamed of." She slipped it into her pack with the care of a novice with her first vestments.

Silence crept into my bedchambers. At a loss for what to do, I went to my sideboard and started pouring Antivan Port from its decanter into four Serault glass cordials. "What is to become of Aeonar, do you think?" i asked, from curiosity more than anything.

"I suppose that's up for the new Divine to decide, but you ask me? We dismantle the stones and burn what's left to the ground and scatter the ashes in the Dragon Wastes." Alistair accepted the port with a scowl. "Ferelden might just do that anyway. The very idea of its existence should have been squashed by the chantry ages ago. I mean, who looks at an old Tevene ruin with a severely compromised veil and says, that's the perfect place for a maleficarum prison!"

I couldn't help but laugh as the others took their portions. "That's exactly what I said when I found out about it."

Alistair looked at me with new eyes. "You're a kindred spirit, aren't you? Smart, beautiful, you haven’t threatened to turn me into a toad, and you’re Marcher nobility yes?"

I shook my head. "No, I am a Lord's daughter, sure, but some people will never see further than the staff I carry-"

He waved a dismissive hand. "I'm the orphaned son of a servant girl and a lowly warden to boot. Still they gave me a throne."

"They also gave you a marriage," Cullen said. His voice was pensive. "And a civil war."

Alistair grimaced. "Same thing really. And about that." He turned to the Hero. "You and I are going to have a nice, long talk about the supposed benefits of this arranged marriage. Ten years with that icy glare ruining my breakfast each morning."

The king's mood didn't seem to shake hers. "It was the best solution that I had at the time and you know it. Her imprisonment or even execution would have shattered Ferelden to its core and left her ripe for Orleasian or Tevinter intervention. I tried to think beyond the moment, Alistair. I won't apologize for looking out for Fereldan's populace."

"Well, I wouldn't be surprised if there wasn't soon a vacancy for Queen of Ferelden." 

The hero frowned. "That's harsh, even for you Alistair. You've forgiven Anora for far worse crimes."

"When her ire was directed at me, sure. She thinks I'm stupid. Whatever helps her sleep at night. But she never openly moved against you." Alistair shook his head. "You know the lengths I would go for you. How can you stand there and just accept what she did to you?"

"You act as if it's the first time she's done it. Remember our first stay in Fort Drakon?" 

"True, but--"

"But what? Anora might be adept at manipulation, but she's at least predictable. She doesn't risk the throne without a foolproof plan. This one was at least ten years in the making." The warden commander gestured at me. "She didn't account for you."

"No, she didn't account for Seeker Corthwaite." I sipped from my glass. "Or the demon. Solid plan otherwise."

Alistair darkened again. "Demon?"

"I'll tell you everything later, I promise," she said. "It is a very long story and you'll be angered repeatedly." She knocked back the dregs left in her cordial, allowing silence to cool his temper. After a long, tender look, she turned to me. "Inquisitor, forgive us please. We should not have troubled you with this in your own bedchamber."

I shrugged. "I'm too tired to notice," I said. It was a blatant lie, but it was all I had. My thoughts drifted beyond the political turmoil of my uninvited guests to my ex-templar, whose eyes had not left me the entire conversation. There was want smoldering in his dark eyes, like coals of charred wood in the ashes of the hearth.

"--time I'll marry the Inquisitor." Alistair thumbed my direction. "That'll spark a better war than Fereldans fighting each other..."

"I, uh, what?" I stammered, ill prepared for that conversation. The smolder in Cullen's eyes faded to an icy interest. He seemed bemused by my expression.

Alistair's hands became animated. "You're basically in charge of an entire nation of people, even though you live on borrowed land. And you're not Orleasian, Tevinter, or Antivan. Being a Marcher, you practically have no political ties to countries whatsoever. Yes, the more I think about it, the more I like this idea. Lady Trevelyan of Ostwick, will you marry me?"

"I--"

"He's joking, Inquisitor." The Hero snatched Alistair's empty cordial from his hands and returned them to my sideboard. "I have some warden business to clear up with Alistair, but will you be available later? I'd like to talk some more."

"Yes of course. Consider Skyhold your home anytime you need her." I said, recovering as quickly as I could.

She squeezed Cullen's arm as she pushed Alistair towards the stairs. "We will talk too, please? I miss our friendship."

"So do I." Cullen's voice hitched a bit.

I heard Alistair argue the merit of marriage with the Herald of Andraste the entire descent through my chamber door. "How is my suggestion so wrong?" he said. "You made my father-in-law Logain Mac Tir..."

"Maker, not this again..." her voice trailed, and disappeared when I heard the door shut.

Cullen scooped me up faster than I could blink, and brought me to my bed in a torrent of hot, demanding kisses. I forgot how tired I was, how cold I had been. i forgot how terrified I was to lose him, to lose myself. I forgot about the demon's threat and the Queen's trechery, and the Chanter's dissonant verses. 

All I could remember in that moment was I, a mage formerly of the Rose Tower of Ostwick circle, loved a former templar named Cullen Rutherford. And together we were stronger than the sum of our fears.

### Chapter Eighteen

I woke. Shade darkened my eastern balcony but the sun still warmed the southern exposure. I had slept the whole of the morning. I yawned and stretched through a cold spot of the bed sheets.

Cullen's strong arms found me, surprising me, and he cradled me, the heat of his bare chest pressed the chill from my back. "Sleep well?" he murmured, nuzzling my ear.

"You're real." I rolled into him, His hand slid across my belly and along my outer thigh, a gentle and reassuring touch. "You're at my side."

"I took the liberty of posting a guard at your door before coming up. We won't be disturbed until we're good and ready."

"That's quite out of character for you," I teased.

"It is. But. I promised we'd talk." He tucked a curl of hair behind my ear. "And I knew as long as the Fereldan Crown was visiting, we would be constantly interrupted. I wanted to give you my undivided attention."

He smiled, broad and carefree. I wrapped a leg around his and pressed in closer. "I want to do this every day, Cullen. I'm tired of sneaking around like there's something to hide."

There was hesitation in his response. "I would like nothing in Thedas more..."

I groaned. "Why do I hear a however in your voice?"

His dry chuckle echoed through his chest. "However. As much as I would like to keep you all for myself, you do have a public obligation that I don't have--"

"But Cullen I don't care about--"

"No, listen." He laid me back and kissed my forehead before his commanding gaze met mine. "You have a public obligation, much like Hero of Ferelden does. You are legend. You belong to them."

I shook my head, trying to shake the feeling that he was trying to tell me goodbye. "I'm just a mage. I belong with you."

He sighed and pulled away, laying on his back. "This all sounded so much better in my head."

I let the pause build in peace for a moment before slipping in the crook of his arm, resting my head against his shoulder. "I love you, isn't that what matters?"

He ran his fingers along my spine. "I love you too. But I can't pretend that your duty doesn't exist."

"You're not suggesting..."

"What?"

I lifted my head. I needed him to see how serious I was. "If you're suggesting that we do something utterly foolish like end our relationship because of duty-"

"What! No. The thought never occurred to me."

"Then what are you saying?"

"I propose a compromise. We don't hide anymore, but we also don't announce."

"Why?"

"Because. You might be a mage, but the wind is shifting and Divine Victoria sent authorization for the Teyrn of Ostwick to reinstate the title they stripped from you when they sent you to the circle."

"And?"

"So you don't see what that means?" He frowned, his eyes drifting to the ceiling and back. "Look, were you aware that it was Warden Commander Amell that suggested the political marriage between Alistair and Anora?"

I nodded, wondering what that had to do with anything. "Their conversation hinted at such."

"Do you know why?"

I shrugged. "She said it was the best solution she could come up with at the landsmeet."

"It was a very clever strategy on her part. Anora still had a great deal of support among the banns. Warden Amell saw beyond the moment, to the civil war it might have sparked."

"They still had a civil war."

"Yes, but it wasn't between banners taking up for Queen Anora against banners taking up for Alistair the Bastard Warden King. Their marriage gave Alistair legitimacy and placated Anora supporters before an incident could happen. And once the Archdemon was out of the way..."

"I might have decided the same, then."

A thin smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Somehow I doubt it, because you can't seem to see the scope of the impact our relationship could have on the future of the Inquisition."

I responded with a pout and a childish argument. "I can too."

"Tell me then, what happens when a king asks to take your hand, to forge an alliance between nations."

"Alistair was joking."

"The next offer won't be from Alistair, and it won't be a joke." He sighed. "As much as I dislike the notion, until we have a more solid idea on the leadership role the Inquisition will have in the future, we need to preserve your reputation as much as we can."

"I'm a leader, not a virgin. Why should anyone care? Andraste was married to her general, for flames sake, and I am Andraste's messenger."

"And we still don't know how your dalliance with an ex-templar under your command is going to affect your other obligations."

"Dalliance? I think that my being a mage would ruin matrimonial prospects faster than a love with a principled man would." My mood was darkening. I wanted the conversation to be over. I was starting to wish he hadn't posted a guard and that we had been interrupted several times. I liked it much better when we were both blushing and attempting to hide our nakedness.

"Fair point, I suppose," he said. "Look, Love is a word I had difficulty saying my whole life. I love you, I mean that. But I'm not wrong about your reputation."

I drew circles on his chest, contemplating his words. "Move into my penthouse, Cullen, and I promise not to announce our relationship to the whole of Thedas then."

"It's just temporary, Love," he said, kissing my forehead again. "Trust me."

There was a long, comfortable lull between us, "I suppose I should find something to wear," I said finally. "Thedas has probably fallen apart in our absence."

He dragged me back as I pulled away, pinning me to my bed, shocking me breathless and mute. "We have nothing but time. Let's make the most of it," he said. 

### Chapter Nineteen

Shadows stretched across the courtyards of Skyhold as the chill of twilight descended. I delivered Josphine's request to the quarter master for a detailed report on our lyrium stockpile, since our recent venture to supplement Aeonar's templars. The warden commander caught me on the way out. "Have a drink with me, Inquisitor?" she offered.

"Of course," I said, following her to the tavern. The Herald's Rest was lively with patrons and song, and no one noticed the two of us slipping through the door. I signaled my surly bartender and he nodded towards the upstairs. We made our way up the steps and took a quiet table in the alcove. 

"Look, I've been meaning to thank you," she said, as an elven lass delivered two pints to our table. 

"Thank me? whatever for?" I sipped from my tankard and licked the foam from my lips.

Her eyes grew round. "For what she says. I don't know. My life? Alistair's life? The wardens at Adamant. The whole of Thedas?"

I waved a hand, pushing back her comments as if they were tangible things. "After the sacrifices you made to end the blight? You and me, we're square."

She tossed me a half-smile before sobering. "All right, you saved Thedas, I save Thedas, I'll let us be even on that. But for Cullen. There's no way I could ever repay you for him."

"I don't understand."

"Don't you?" Her eyes pooled. "Did Cullen ever tell you about me? About our life before the blight?"

I nodded. "Some. He didn't give me too many details, saying it wasn't entirely his story to tell."

"He's always been shy and private." She scowled into her pint. "They teased him incessantly for it. Because of me. He would have had a much simpler time at the circle. There would not have been fuel for the demons to torture him with...How can I ever forgive myself?"

I allowed some space in the conversation. "His demons haunt him, haunt his dreams still. Lyrium used to dull the memories I think. But. After Aeonar, I have a feeling he'll have an easier time."

"Why?"

"He thought, because of the awful things he said to you, he thought you would be angry with him. I think it made his dreams worse." I reached across the table to touch her arm. "Knowing that you don't hold a grudge against him, that's a huge weight of his shoulders. He's happier, brighter now. I've never seen him smile so much."

"Well, I thank you all the same, Inquisitor." Her eyes lowered and she squeezed my hand. "I love him, so very dearly."

I swallowed my jealousy. It had no place in this conversation. "I was under the impression, I mean I thought you and the king..."

She smiled. "Alistair and I share a bond that goes much deeper than love, Inquisitor. But that doesn't mean that I don't miss my friend, the one who got away. More than one sleepless night, my thoughts returned to Cullen. I was terrified when the Red Templars turned up, that I might find him numbered among their ranks."

"You don't want..." It was a stupid question, no doubt about it.

She blushed. "Oh I'm not going to pretend that the fantasy hasn't crossed my mind, but that ship is long since sailed. And there isn't an art I could devise that would pull him from your bed. He's far too honorable for a one night stand with an old flame."

"Alistair," I coughed. I hated myself for the thoughts I was having. "I mean, wow. That is so none of my business."

To my surprise she laughed. "You mean, how could I have married the man I love off on the Icy Rose of Ferelden?"

"No, that I understand. The political strategy behind that was genius." I could feel a blush scalding my cheeks. "Surely though, his obligations to his marriage...I mean, I know it's been a decade but they must be trying to have an heir right?"

She laughed all the harder. "Their heirmaking doesn't involve love or trust and it certainly doesn't involve me. I have offered to participate with them, but I don't think Anora would be comfortable with that. She's barely comfortable with the idea of sleeping with her former husband's brother."

Her candidness took me by surprise. "It doesn't bother you, that he lies with her?"

"Not in the slightest. Until Aeonar, I wasn't aware it bothered her that he lay with me either. It's a good thing she doesn't know about the others."

"There's more?" I frowned. "And you're okay with it?"

She shrugged. "It's his duty to have an heir? Wardens are into sacrifice? What do you want me to say? I'm not a jealous person by nature. I have needs. He has...very healthy needs. We're not always in the same town let alone the same bed."

I shook my head. "You make it sound so simple."

"I never said we were normal. It's an arrangement that works for us." She looked at me with interest, a tilt at her head. "I think I see where this is coming from now. Cullen is a strategist too. We used to play chess together, and I know he's always thinking at least ten moves ahead. He mentioned your title was being returned to you. And now the both of you are worried that you'll be married off."

"I just don't think I have it in me, to live that kind of lie for duty when I love him so completely."

"You'll find your way. Together. It took a long time, five years before I could convince Alistair to think outside our bed. But. We're wardens, Inquisitor. Sacrifice is in our blood. I would sacrifice anything for the men I love. The women too."

"You're a very candid sort of person, aren't you?"

She smirked. "That's nothing. How's this for candid. I've had a stormy past with men. There are only four alive that I could trust enough to get that close to me again. Cullen happens to be one of them. My first pleasurable experience with a sexual partner wasn't with a man. But that is a different story. Alistair and I are on borrowed time. We don't get the happily ever after that you and Cullen have to potential to have. So, we take our happilies where we can get them."

Somehow, the conversation wasn't awkward with her, but I gave a nervous chuckle, concerned about what she might be thinking of me. I wondered how to say what I wanted to say, I wondered what I wanted to say. And then there were the questions I had about Aeonar. I stared into the depths of my emptying tankard, lost in my own inability to think.

She let the pause gain traction, until I was comfortable again. "Ah, You've got something else on your mind don't you?"

I nodded, the flood of words returning. "Three things are still unresolved. One: your staff is missing. You left it in the lobby armory and it wasn't there when we arrived. Two: your dog is missing. I haven't seen any trace of a Mabari Hound anywhere on the prison grounds. Three: the prisoner is missing. We have no idea who she is, what kind of danger she might be in, or worse, what kind of threat she poses."

She tapped her tankard. "She's a friend, Inquisitor. A mage yes. On her own. She is dangerous, but only to those who seek to do her harm. I told my dog to go with her, to keep her safe. He'll come back when he gets bored. The staff wasn't mine, it was hers. She picked it up on her way out."

Three simple answers cleared up so much. "And the demon that tormented the tower. Do you know what that might have been or where it might have gone?"

Her answer was disturbing. "No. And it worries me. You'll let me know, if you learn anything about it?"

"I promise, if you'll do the same."

"I will."

The rulers of Ferelden left for Denerim with their Hero, before night settled into the valley. Alistair didn't ride in the carriage with Anora. I suspected it would be a long and lonely journey back to the capital city. I almost felt sorry for the queen. 

Almost.

Cullen joined me that night in my penthouse. I was afraid to sleep, afraid to wake, afraid he'd disappear like the morning mist in the courtyard below when the sun rose. But he was there in the morning where he nuzzled my ear and told me he loved me.


End file.
